


What Lies in the Wasteland

by imonlyjoking



Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Angst and Humor, Desert Songs, Espionage, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Romance, Survival, What hides in the desert night, bandits, i love to make my fav characters suffer, scary pandoran wildlife, trapped in wilderness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-04-23 22:57:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 144,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4895536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imonlyjoking/pseuds/imonlyjoking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhys and Jack are left stranded in the Pandoran wasteland together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Descent

**Author's Note:**

> My first Handsome Jack/Rhys fanfic. I honestly thought I had a lot more to say in the summary and in my notes, but this idea just sort of popped in my head. I'm just going to run along with it :) I hope you all enjoy!

Why did falling anywhere on Pandora always seem like it happened in slow motion? Perhaps it was due to the planet's gravitation, that it wasn't as strong as what was considered normal for those who weren't use to living there. And shock was easily another reason for it; in those moments your body is helpless to catch itself could the sudden rush of adrenaline actually _slow_ time?

In a rush of logic and reasoning over his current situation, Rhys suddenly decided that he no longer gave a shit about why.

Because, _holy shit_ , he was falling from the sky.

The painfully overwhelming ringing in his ears had yet to subside, even blocking out the sound of wind rushing past his ears. He saw his long limbs spread out all around him, like he was laying down in air, air moving past him insanely fast that is, and he realized he couldn't get them to move.

A large burning chunk of shrapnel, yellow and black and chrome, whizzed by him only feet away. Rhys could feel it pass him, a sound that would be more than likely something awful if he could hear it over the ringing.

The large piece of rocket sailing through the sky had caused Rhys to get thrown off balance and he twirled from his back onto his stomach, arms and legs still flailing around him against the force, the wind blowing in his face and threatening to flow into his mouth. Stunningly he was able to lift his head through all of this and peak through heavily squinted eyes.

It was like something out of sci-fi movie he'd watched as a kid.

There were flaming pieces of metal everywhere, blazing, melted, and trailing thick black lines of smoke and ember as they fell. There were other chunks of miscellaneous debris all in the air, he could barely make out pieces of shredded clothing and other materials, layers of the ship, and...oh God, was that a forearm and half a torso? Oh God, ' _don't look at it, don't look at it. Gonna vomit.'_

Rhys tore his eyes away to look at a large figure tearing through one large clump of smoke as if resurfacing from a pool of black water upside down. The wind stung his eyes like needles, tears flooding his vision for only a mere second before being blown away, but he steadied his gaze at the body, watching as it fell head first, torso angled in almost a curve, legs flailing out and fighting against the pressure, arms grasping as if trying to hold onto something.

Though singed and somewhat still smoking Rhys spotted the ever familiar black jacket, yellow sweater, and obvious sneakers. Both brown and blue eyes widened despite the stinging wind, his stomach jumping in his throat.

“ _Jack!”_

His mouth moved but he could hear nothing but that damned ringing, and he wasn't even sure if he had said the man's name or thought it.

Whether Jack _had_ heard the shout or it was just plain coincidence, he lifted his head back at that moment catching sight of Rhys. And they both stared at each other, not even acknowledging the burning objects whizzing past them. It didn't matter that Jack's expression seemed more angry than Rhys' shell shocked one, they both knew what the other was thinking the moment their eyes locked.

What the _fuck_ just happened?

Not knowing what else to do, Rhys extended his metal arm out toward Jack.

In turn Jack mouthed something toward Rhys. Even with the deafening ring, he doubted he would have been able to hear him.

And time was going by so _freakin_ slow.

But Rhys had to admit, it would have made for a good musical intro.

Jack started to squirm, like he was trying to gain balance against the magnitude of the current. Rhys continued to watch the other man, noticing that the weight of his outstretched metal arm sent his body careening head first, staring down into the Pandoran wasteland he would slam into with a bone shattering impact.

And what was worse than that? Rhys was absolutely _terrified_ of heights.

And _holy shit,_ they were really high in the air.

Panic seized Rhys' chest tightly, and he felt like his ribcage was going to implode on itself. He felt the air leave his lungs at what he assumed was an attempt at a fear stricken scream. The longer he stared at the distant ground bouncing closer and farther in his eyes, taunting him with his irrational fear, the more hysteria engulfed him. His stomach churned painfully.

Oh God, oh God. He was going to die, plummeting to Pandora, whatever is left of him will splatter over half a mile's radius.

Rhys didn't want to die, not now, not like this.

The ground began to fade into fond memories of him and Vaughn in college, in that shitty little dorm they shared with the cheap ac unit they had to constantly fix, of all the crazy intern parties he would drag the smaller more introverted man to. He remembered the first day he met Yvette and within the first minute they met he tried to flirt with her. He still remembers the blunt pain on his cheek when she had backhanded him, and how that one backhand had blossomed a best friendship.

He remembers mornings at the coffee shop, just the three of them laughing at the smallest things and too caught up in enjoying each others' company.

His first time on Pandora, the Gortys project, Fiona, Sasha…

When he first met Handsome Jack, first as a hologram and then in the new body he obtained when they arrived back on Helios.

The first time Jack caused his chest to flutter, that day in the office when that large hand ruffled his hair, trailing calloused fingers past his cheek to cup his jaw, causing him to _look_ into those heterochromic eyes of his.

No...no...he didn't want to die! There was still so much to do, too many people to worry about!

Rhys didn't notice the blur of movement above him, spiraling down on top of him before he felt a large hand fist the back of his jacket between his shoulder blades. Despite the weight of gravity pulling them down the grip on him forced his body up and smashed him into another hard object, the fist uncurling only to be replaced by a strong arm wrapping around his back to hold him tight. Face pressed into a warm surface, Rhys picked up a fleeting scent of burning rocket fuel and singed leather.

A distant voice in his ear brought him back the present again, and he was surprised to hear anything other than the possibly-eardrum-ruptured sound of ringing.

“Hold on tight, kitten.”

Rhys didn't have to be told twice, his hands gripping every bit of Jack's clothing possible, pressing himself as close as possible to the other man. He watched with unfocused eyes as Jack's other hand reached up to grip the small item hooked to the chest of his jacket, wrapping his large fingers around the pentagonal object until a bright blue light came to life in the middle of it. The blue light convulsed and Rhys found themselves both momentarily wrapped in a familiar bright warmth.

“And for fucks sake, don't puke on me.”

Of all times for Jack to be a smartass, but before Rhys could register both the blue light and Jack's words, time began to speed back up, sending both men descending back down onto the hell ridden planet they had departed from only moments ago.

And that's when Rhys' eyes rolled back in his head, and his world had fallen into a black nothingness.


	2. Girlfriend Guns?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the reviews and kudos and bookmarks and omg this is great! I won't let you guys down!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was going to be longer, but I decided to keep it as the build up. Enjoy!

“Did you know the desert can sing?” Sasha had said one night during their journey across the Pandoran wilderness, huddled against the makeshift fire, a youthful mirth shining in her eyes with the flicker of flames as she eyed Vaughn and Rhys.

Vaughn snorted, although the hesitant expression from behind his glasses was evident. “Um, right. I'm sure that's just the dehydration drying your brain out.”

“A Hyperion code monkey would say that,” Sasha smirked, “until you've actually _heard_ it. In the dead of night, _out there,_ in parts where no being dare tread.”

“Sash, stop.” Fiona softly chided barely hiding her smile at her sister's antics.

Sasha giggled, and there was a moment of silence between the troupe of misfits as they drifted into their own thoughts.

“So,” Rhys started slowly, “what does it sound like?”

His quiet inquiry caused a spark of combined surprises, like he was actually believing the tall tale. Rhys looked between his companions and shrugged, casting a quick glimpse at Athena perched against the back of the vehicle partly shrouded in the pitch black darkness before quickly glancing back to the young thief.

“What?” Sasha tilted her head slightly.

“The songs...what do they sound like?” Rhys asked again, curiosity turning into anxiety when Sasha suddenly grinned mischievously and wiggled herself closer to the fire.

“ _Now_ you've done it.” Fiona sighed, leaning back to stretch her legs out and propped herself on her elbows.

A breeze blew through the camp at that precise moment, whipping the flames and stirring the embers into the air. Vaughn's shoulders shook, from fear or the chilled air Rhys wasn't sure, but he wouldn't blame his best friend for getting mega creeped out at the bad timing, ignoring his own gooseflesh prickling his skin underneath his suit.

It was like Pandora just _loved_ to mess with your head, like always.

“They say it's from the moans of the dead and forgotten, tainted souls that are left to wander the desert in search of redemption,” her voice dropped an eery pitch. Rhys remained silent, attention completely consumed and continued to listen intently.

“Others' speak of large mutant wereskags that wonder the darkest parts of Pandora. When they howl it sounds like the tormented souls of the afterlife….” Sasha's eyes went large and she leaned closer, the orange glow of the fire illuminating her features. Rhys suddenly felt pressure to his left, and he quickly glanced over and realized Vaughn had eased his way closer to Rhys until their legs touched. Any closer and the other man would practically be sitting in his lap.

And then he heard it, at first a small whistle slowly growing in pitch and intensity from behind him. Rhys flinched and glanced behind him, finding nothing but the pitch black darkness that was night, the glow from Elpis casting a haunting shadow on the distant mountains. When he turned back to listen to Sasha, he found that she was no longer there. No one was there. Fiona, Vaughn, the vehicle, Athena, even the campfire….all vanished.

No, that wasn't right. If he remembered correctly, Fiona had jumped up from behind him and Vaughn and scared the living shit out of them. He knew this because the feminine scream that came out of Vaughn's mouth had made history that night. _This..._ this nothingness, was not what happened.

And the sound, that awful, _awful,_ distant wail coming from the distance around him became closer, louder, more haunting than any sound he had ever heard. The hairs on the back of his neck stood, his blood ran cold, his throat going dry and gritty, like sand had filled his mouth.

His mouth was full of sand.

Rhys jerked and his eyes popped open, only to shut them tightly when he felt the bright heat of daylight burn his real cornea. He tried to gulp in air, and instead swallowed a heap of utterly dry sand.

“Ugh, ack, pfffftttt, pffffrtttt!” He raised himself on his hands and knees, bent over and heaved as much sand out of his throat as possible.

 _'Ugh, oh, oh man, this really sucks.'_ Eyes peeling open this time more cautiously he was able to take in his surroundings. He was met with a flat, desolate scenery that seemed to stretch for countless miles on either side of him, mountains that seemed so small from here were probably huge wherever they were. Wait, where the hell was _he?_

And then it all dawned on Rhys, like a wave of hot water had washed over his spine. The explosion, the falling, the smoke and melting steel. His eyes glanced upward as the flashbacks pieced themselves back together. He suddenly felt himself tumble back on his bottom, breathing heavy and increasingly more frantic.

 _'I'm alive…? I'm alive!'_ Both his flesh and metal hand began grabbing every part of himself, his chest, his ribs, stomach, legs, crotch, checking for any surprise puncture wounds or gashes or any broken bones he had yet to be aware of. When his flesh hand rubbed across one side of his face he felt something sticky and dry on his skin and pulled away to inspect it. Huh, dried blood.

But it wasn't until Rhys attempted to activate his echo eye that he really felt dread stir in his belly. He blinked profusely, nodding his head in a subconscious attempt to jumpstart it. Static blurred his vision, some blues and whites and scratches of color, and that was it. He had his vision, which was a good thing, meaning the mechanics behind his robotic eye were at least operating properly. It was a strange feeling, however, to not feel the rush of energy when he called upon his echo eye. And if he wasn't able to use his echo eye, he already new he couldn't power his mechanical arm to do anything other than the basics.

Looking down at his mechanical arm, he wiggled his metal fingers as a comforting reminder.

At least he still had that.

Great. _Just_ great. The time and hassle it would take to fix his robotics...it'd be different if he had his tools with him, and not having them for such predicaments like this would only serve to piss off Jack when he found out–

Wait.

Jack.

Holy Shit. Where was Jack?

Rhys swerved his head in all directions until he caught sight of a motionless form half buried in the sand not far from him. Ignoring the heavy quake in his legs he bolted for the other figure, chest tightening with fright when his suspicions were correct.

Parts of Jack's right leg, torso, left shoulder and arm were buried in the sand, certain areas of his clothing singed and spots of his skin dirty with black soot. If this was any other circumstance, okay not true – Rhys hesitated for a single moment to take in just how wrecked the all powerful Handsome Jack looked right now. But as crazy as this was and how roughed up the man looked, he had never seen Jack's expression so blank, so... _peaceful._ As if despite their currently fucked situation, the man appeared to be in the deepest sleep of his life, body so still, it didn't even seem like he was breathing.

...Wait a minute.

Jack wasn't breathing!?

Rhys' hands were on Jack instantly, shaking his shoulders, smacking his chest.

“Jack!? Jack, wake up! Please, Jack!”

Was it the wrist or the neck that he could check for a pulse, or both? Why oh why didn't he take that damn CPR seminar at Hyperion?

“ _Please. I'm a programmer, not a doctor!”_ Wow, thinking back on it he sounded like such an idiot. That's what he got for trying to be funny.

He did remember one important tidbit of info that Sasha had given him, something about palms on the heart, pushing, breathing air into the others lungs.

Of course this would happen to him.

So, Rhys mimicked what he could remember. He straddled Jack's torso, setting his palms on the man's chest, and began pumping pressure. One, two, three, four, five.

Okay, it was go time.

He grabbed Jack's face, pulling it close to him. A blush blazed his face from his cheeks to his ears. He was about to put _his_ lips on _Handsome Jack's_ lips. Okay...okay...he could do this! He wasn't a teenager anymore, dammit, he was a grown man trying to save another grown man's life!

He pried the unconscious man's mouth open, gulped, and lowered himself down.

Mind racing in every direction, he failed to notice two different colored eyes pop open, and it was too late for Rhys to react to the confused and feral snarl below him.

“The _fuck!?”_

Before Rhys knew it he found himself sprawled onto his back, a heavy weight on top of him and a crushing force on his throat. And the once technically twice thought dead Handsome Jack was now inches from his face, lips pulled up in a snarl and eyes flaming with anger.

“J-Jaghk,” he tried to speak, which only came out as a sputtered gag.

“Gettin you some of ol' Jack while his lights are out? Is that how this is gonna go? Christ, pumpkin, you're sick!”

Rhys blinked. He didn't think of it like that. But _of course_ Jack would.

“N-No!” He yelped defensively. “C...CP...R!”

There was a pause as Jack stared at Rhys quizzically, the anger fading from confusion into agitation before he eased the crushing grip on the younger man's throat and backed off of him. Rhys grabbed his sore throat and gulped air back into his lungs between coughs.

Jack stared at him incredulously. “Call your fetish what you want, it's still freakin creepy. Creep.”

Oh for the love of…

“You...you weren't breathing. I had to...” he coughed, “do something!”

“Don't make excuses, kiddo. It doesn't suit you.” Jack huffed back, not doing a great job of hiding his antagonistic grin. They stayed quiet for a moment as Rhys caught his breath, and the air began to turn serious again when Jack tried to roll his shoulders and winced.

“Son of a taint...feel like I got rammed by a loaderbot.”

Rhys could agree with him on that. He watched as Jack rubbed his shoulder with his other hand and scrutinized their surroundings. Just like he had done when he first woke up, it seemed Jack was realizing their situation through a hazy mind when he saw the older man's eyes squint and his lips pull down in a deep frown.

“Jack…?”

“What's up, cupcake?” He replied without looking at him.

“How are we still alive?”

His question was answered with a humorous snort. “Because you're with me and my quick thinking, moron. And...” Jack patted himself down and when he didn't find what he was looking for he searched the ground around him until he found it, leaning down and digging something from out of the sand. The little pentagon Jack had attached on his jacket before the fall, only now it was a cracked chunk with a dim shattered middle. “If it wasn't for this little guy taking the brunt of the landing, we'd be throwing up our own anuses.”

A wonderful mental image Rhys never wanted to think about again, and shivered when he realized one small piece of technology had saved them from being splattered.

“Damn, and this was the best shield I had on me. Oh well.” Jack tossed it over his shoulder carelessly, the shield long forgotten and turned his attention to the younger man kneeling on the ground.

“You look like shit, kiddo. Any damages I should know about?”

The look on Rhys' face resembled a fish out of water. Did Handsome Jack just ask him if he was okay? He quickly glanced to see if the world was suddenly ending around him. No? Okay, but he was still asked about his well being, which was crazy enough. Granted he'd only been working under Jack for six months since their return to Helios after the whole Gortys fiasco, but in that time he'd only been let known the Hyperion CEO held some small emotion akin to caring for him was in his contradicting jokes, and those small ghost-of-a-second moments where Jack's touch would linger for longer than normal, or when Rhys would catch random stares coming from the older man that held a kind of intensity he couldn't distinguish exactly what it was before it was gone in a blink and a turn of the head.

“Hey, string bean, I asked you a question.”

Rhys jumped out of his thoughts at the impatient bark. “Oh! Uh, I'm fine. Sore, and I think the adrenaline is still numbing a lot of it, but I'm okay. Thanks?”

Jack gave him a blank stare. “You sure? Because the dried blood coming from your ears is telling me something different.”

So _that's_ what the blood was from earlier. Rhys reached up to cup one of his ears, giving the other man a lopsided smile. “Heh, whaddya know? It must have been from the explosion. It doesn't hurt though.”

There was moment of silence in which Jack held that same blank stare, Rhys beginning to fidget under the gaze and it made him a little agitated knowing full well Jack was doing it for that reason. Thankfully he stopped the stare with a roll of his eyes and a sigh, turning away to stare up at the giant space station hovering above them in the sky.

“I've been on this planet far too damn long for my liking. Call up one of those douchebags at Hyperion and get us another shuttle, will ya? My communicator doesn't seem to be working.”

“Yeah, right, I'll just….” So caught up in the moment of Jack asking about his health, he had forgotten to mention his echo eye or communication wasn't working either. He decided to give it a try anyway, hoping it would start up this time from sheer luck.

Unfortunately for Rhys he never had much luck to begin with, and the moment he tried to power his echo eye he saw the snowy static blur his vision, followed by a harsh and painful backlash of electricity that jolted through his brain. The nerves in his arms and legs burned and caused him to spasm, and he doubled over and cried out when he couldn't take the overwhelming pain that drowned his senses. He felt hands on his shoulders then, rough and jerking him up into a sitting position.

Blinking through the static Rhys could see Jack staring at him, watching his face closely.

“Kiddo? You still with me? What happened?” There it was again. That...odd, random caring thing he did. It wasn't just what he said it, but how he said it. Rhys could blame how drunk he was on the pain, but he was sure he heard what could be considered as _concern_ coming from the man.

Damn his head hurt, but the spasms and pain had ended the second his echo went dead. He met Jack's eyes unsteadily, and realized what he was about to say should have been relayed about ten feet farther from the man.

“Yeah, I-I'm fine. Uh, remember when you asked me if I had taken any damage?”

Jack remained silent but didn't remove his eyes from Rhys'.

“Well…,” he continued with a weak chuckle, "...ah, I forgot to mention that...myechoisn'tworkingeither.” Immediately he clamped his eyes shut and waited for it, the explosion that would finish off what the fall didn't.

The grip on his shoulders left, and he could feel Jack rise and take a few steps back. Oh God. Here it comes.

“You gotta be kiddin me.”

Yeah, that tone was way too calm for comfort. Rhys chanced one eye to look at the CEO, and chewed his bottom lip between his teeth when Jack began to pace slowly, hands on his hips, shoulders tense, _that_ stance that meant something, someone, a large region, or a continent, was going to die.

This was just the build up.

“Jack…?”

“You mean to tell me,” Jack hissed quietly, “that we have absolutely _no way_ of communicating with Helios to get us a shuttle, to get us back home, that we are _stranded._ Here. On this God. Forsaken. Planet,” Uh oh, his voice was getting louder, his pacing was getting stompier. A figurative ticking time bomb.

“All because some inbred, scum sucking, disease ridden, shit eating, yellow belly, Pandoran _trash_ BLEW US OUT OF THE FUCKING SKY?!”

Rhys wanted to curl up under a rock. He instead sat as still as stone as Jack exploded in a screaming fit of rage. Well, there was nothing to do now but to let him get it out of his system.

“GOD DAMMIT!” Jack whirled himself around in search of the nearest thing he could blow to pieces. Seeing an innocent boulder a good distance away he swiftly took an elemental pistol out from his ankle holster and proceeded to pummel the poor object with bullets.

Until there was literally nothing left but a cloud of dust and echoing gunfire. Rhys waited until the only sound left was Jack's heavy breathing, stood up, dusted himself off, and walked slowly to the older man, mechanical arm rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“We...we'll find another way back, Jack. It'll be harder, but…I'm sure we'll find something.”

“No shit, genius.” Rhys winced at the harsh tone, but knew better than to approach Jack until he had completely calmed down. His shoulders slumped and he cast his eyes down to look at his shoes, suddenly feeling more useless than the boulder.

Jack must have noticed Rhys' expression, for when he glanced at the PA from the corner of his eye it seemed to have extinguished some of the fury that was still blazing in his mind and he sighed tiredly, running a hand through his hair to fix some of the loose strands that had fallen out of place during his rampage.

Rhys flinched when a strong hand clamped on his shoulder, squeezing in a way that could be considered comforting. He raised his wide eyes to meet Jack's and the smirk replacing the scowl from earlier, finding this look on the man more true to his nickname.

“C'mon, pumpkin. Let's get going.”

“Get going?” Rhy tilted his head in confusion. “Going where?”

“Hah, you're cute when you're playing dumb, kiddo. Let's go.” The hand on Rhys' shoulder tugged him forward and the two began walking. And it suddenly dawned on Rhys; he'd never admit it, but Jack actually had no idea where they were going. When every barren, hot, dry desert on Pandora looked about the same, it was hard to grasp a direction so soon, but Jack's pride was tougher than steel, he knew that much about the man, and knew well to keep any further questions to himself.

Until Jack came to an abrupt halt, causing Rhys to stumble and catch himself.

“Almost forgot,” Jack said with a grin, “need to roll-call.”

It was amazing how many guns Jack kept stuffed in random places on his body. He must have had, like, what, six? One strapped to each ankle, two comfortably placed in the holsters on each side of his torso on his vest underneath his jacket, two placed in his waistline of his pants –one in the front, one in the back.

“Let's see...Lucy...Alice...Berta...Nisha...Rita...aaaand, Catie. Alright! We're good to go!” Rhys rolled his eyes at how happy Jack was right now. Really? Naming your guns?

“Lemme guess,” Rhys drawled, “the names of your exes?”

“Yup!” Jack laughed, which resembled something like a kid with his prized toys. “Or the ones I liked, at least. Alice was the one that took out that boulder, ya know. That was one tough woman.”

_'Good lord.'_

“Aw don't be jealous, Rhysie. You might get a gun named after you too one day, sweetcheeks. I'll keep you close to my heart.” Jack patted his chest where his heart was, throwing Rhys a large mocking grin with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Despite the blush that bled onto his cheeks, Rhys sighed and shook his head. Was that an attempt to be sweet? God only knew.

The two continued onward, and Rhys couldn't fight the growing anxiety in his gut at the unknown he was sure to face.

Because when you're journeying through the Pandoran terrain with one Handsome Jack leading the way, what could possibly go wrong?

That was sarcasm, by the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I pegged Jack down pretty good. I could see him as one that would name his guns XD
> 
> Stay tuned for the next chapter! Things are gonna start getting pretty freakin crazy after this.


	3. Meat Sacks!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you for all the kudos, the comments, etc. You guys are freakin awesome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting fluffy, and I promise there will be some sexy moments to add to this building plot. 
> 
> For now, please enjoy some embarrassing Rhys moments. <3

For the umpteenth time in a two hour span Rhys had seriously considered asking Jack if he wanted more cheese to go with his _whine._

Or if maybe he should call a whambulance, because seriously, Jack would not shut the hell up.

The sun was too bright, the heat was too overwhelming, and he was too sore to hear anymore of what the older man would to do to the people who had shot an apparent missile launcher at their shuttle. As if he'd run out of horrible ideas, or what seemed like fantasies, of the gruesomely detailed acts of torture that these poor bastards would endure once caught. But oh no, when Jack ran out of the simple tactics, he got creative.

“...And then, ohoho, and _then,_ when they're gurgling blood and other bodily fluids out of the gaping hole in their throats, I'm going to castrate them with a hot, rusty tire iron and make them watch as I feed their genitalia to a pack of skags. And then I'm going to beat the ever living piss out of 'em….”

With a sigh Rhys raised his head to gaze up into the cloudless sky above him, tuning out Jack for another span of time. Pandora's insufferable summer heat was that much more excruciating when one is use to the consistent seventy-five degree air conditioning of Helios. Rhys almost felt spoiled, and on a completely different note a little envious of the difference between him and Jack and how they both seemed to handle the desert temperature.

Rhys was drenched in sweat and had long taken his jacket off to tie it around his waist, the top three buttons of his undershirt undone to expose a portion of his sweaty pale chest, pant legs rolled up to his knees. And here Jack was, strolling next to him in all four layers of clothing, strapped to the hilt in heavy guns, and the older man only had what he could see as a light sheen of perspiration on his forehead.

Maybe all the bitching he was doing actually served as a cooling mechanism. Maybe.

He gulped, and swallowed nothing. His throat was so _dry_ and the thought of a single drop of water drove him crazy. He wanted water, he wanted air conditioning, he wanted to be sprawled across his comfortable bed with all the flush pillows and soft sheets. But mostly, he just wanted Jack to shut up. Because the entire time he'd been throwing a tantrum in his head, the CEO was _still_ going on about his unique torture methods.

“...and the photography crew I'm gonna hire are going to take high definition pictures, so I can send holiday cards to each of their family members. Haha, it's gonna be sweet, because instead of cheesy holiday quotes, It's gonna say something twisted, like _Season's Slayings.”_ He broke out in a cackle at that last comment.

“Jack.” Rhys called out to him, deciding he'd had enough. Between the blazing sun and the horrible visions of mutilation and distasteful holiday cards to grief stricken families, he had to stop this before it drove off the last sane part of him.

“Haha, oh, _Season's Slayings._ Man, that's a good one.”

“ _Jack.”_

“But seriously though, I'm gonna fill their family's stockings with their severed remains….”

“Christ, Jack!” Rhys snapped, a little harsher than he meant to, and he winced once he realized his tone. Jack had stopped talking but the heat of a pointed glare burning his back was clear sign that he was zoning in on Rhys now. The silence grew and with it more fidgeting out the younger man's body. If he turned around now his words would melt and cling to his tongue; Jack had a way with his eyes that could crack stone, could tear easily through Rhys in seconds, and he knew this from experience. He often wondered if Jack knew as well.

Both men stayed quiet the rest of the walk. Rhys focused on the sounds of his feet dragging across the sand and the sensation under the soles of his shoes. A shadow engulfed him for a short moment, catching his attention quickly and he gazed up to squint through the sunlight to watch the gliding form of a patient predator circling above him. He ran his tongue over his dry lips; man, what he wouldn't give for some fried Rakk eggs right about now.

 

 

 

From that moment things started looking decently optimistic.

Rhys blamed it on good timing. Jack blamed it on Rhys' wobbly _“spider ant”_ legs and proceeded to compare his rather embarrassing tumble down a sandy incline to a newborn learning how to walk for the first time. Either way considered, Rhys found himself standing at the foot of a cave. A glorious, dark, cool, hidden cave. Needless to say it was a mouth watering sight and the allure of it all hypnotized the chestnut haired man into a trance like walk into the opening.

Only to be stopped short by an arm pressed against his chest, coming between him and the shade he was so desperate for. Rhys snapped out of his trance when the rest of Jack suddenly appeared next to him, a stern caution etched into the frown on his face. His other hand reached to pull a pistol out from underneath his jacket, switching off the safety and cocking it in one fluid motion.

“Stay here and keep watch. Imma check the place out first.” What could have been considered a touching proclamation was immediately ruined when Jack ruffled Rhys' wavy hair and added smugly, “can't have my little damsel running into distress.”

Rhys swatted his hand away, pouting. “I'm not your damsel.”

“Yeah yeah. Just shout if you need me, cupcake.” Before Rhys could reply Jack ventured down into the darkness of the cave. There was no way to tell how long Jack had been down there, and Rhys was counting every step in his back and forth pace as if counting seconds. It wasn't helping, each minute felt considerably longer and he wasn't sure how long an hour was on this planet. When he found himself bored of pacing he decided to find a comfortable area on the wall of the cave to sit against. No sense wasting precious energy by walking in circles. His thoughts raced instead, of wondering if word of the explosion had gotten back to Helios yet, if Vaughn and Yvette both knew about what happened. Would Hyperion send a search party? Would they care to?

Rhys snorted. Of course they would. Handsome Jack's return shuttle had been blown to pieces, the man that ran Hyperion like a well oiled machine was missing in action. The Board would search night and day for their precious CEO, that and if they failed to it would mean a one way ticket out of an airlock for all of them if Jack found out.

But what about Rhys? The question startled him. What _about_ him? He was just a Personal Adviser, which in his defense was a very important job, and he carried out high risk executive decisions on a daily basis, but…

A blunt pain in his back caused him to wince, and he shifted lower against the wall. The pain, however, wasn't enough to shake his mind away from it's current train of thought. It was childish to dwell on it, but the lack of comfort made room for uneasiness. He knew well that Vaughn would worry sick about him, would be on the next shuttle down to search for him with Yvette on his heels. That alone brought a distant warmth to his chest, but even they didn't have enough authority to carry out something like that. His thoughts were again broken this time by a sudden heavy yawn, eyelids becoming more difficult to keep open.

Maybe a small nap would do him good, would clear his mind of the anxiety. He knew he was supposed to be keeping an eye out, but the temptation of sleep was so...enticing. Five minutes wouldn't hurt. Rhys shut his eyes to the world with one last lazy blink, slipping into temporary peace.

Five wonderful minutes was all he wanted….

And he started to hear something that sounded like...sniffing. Like he was being sniffed. Was he dreaming already? He wasn't sure, but if he was it was an odd way to start a dream sequence. But there was something off that Rhys couldn't shake. The sniffing he could put up with, the hot puffs of air on his neck and his chest was a little unnerving, but he shifted uncomfortably when he felt like he was being watched. _Intently._

Rhys opened his eyes, and sorely wished he'd have kept them closed.

The scars and sprays of dried blood adorning the mask inches away from his face were too detailed for his dreams to conjure. Another gust of hot breath in his face reassured that logic. Rhys blinked a few times to clear the sleep from his brain, replacing it with a jolt of panic.

If the mask wasn't the first clue, the bare ashen skin littered in shoddy tattoos hunched over him was definitely the dead giveaway.

What other great way to wake up than with a freaking psycho _way_ too up in your personal space?

“...you have them.”

Rhys almost didn't hear the whispered comment, assuming the psycho said it more to himself than to Rhys. When he did nothing the mindless Pandoran let out something akin to an impatient whine. “Give it…!”

“W-What?”

“M...Mmmm...meat sacks.”

_What?!_

“They're mine! Give it!”

Wild hands were on Rhys faster than he could register, pushing him into the dirt, the psycho's full weight on top of him and pinning his legs. Those crazed hands gripped his shoulders, his neck, his chest, gripping at the collar of his shirt and tugging harshly until one of the buttons popped off. Rhys shouted, using his own hands to pry the man off of him. The metal hand was doing a pretty good job of holding off the psycho's head with a strong palm to the jaw, but his flesh hand had been caught at the wrist and slammed back down to the ground beside his head.

“Delicious meat sacks. You covet! I take! I will taste the selfish desire in your blood!”

The shit coming out of this guy's mouth was, to be expected, but freaking crazy. Rhys yelped when blunt fingertips of the free hand frantically dug into his bare chest. Was this guy really trying to rip his heart out? His stomach lurched painfully. At this moment he regretted not asking Jack for one of his ex-girlfriend guns before he left, and not thinking ahead like he should have would now come back to bite him. Or in this case, tear his heart out.

“My babies, precious meat sacks. GIVE THEM TO ME!”

“You can't have them!” Rhys shouted the only sensible thing that came to mind, regretting it as soon as realized how idiotic that sounded and it only served to fill his attacker's unsteady eyes with indignant rage. Not only would he be awarded for most embarrassing last words, but now he was about to get mutilated by a pissed off psycho, who suddenly raised himself up into a sitting position and heaved a shrill scream.

“I'll drink the juices from your bra--!”

A hole between the eyes silenced the screaming, the back of the crazed man's head exploding with a sickening wet sound sending chunks of skull cap and brain matter in all directions. Rhys felt the ringing in his ears then, adrenaline rushing through him too fast to consider how or what caused it. The body above him leaned back at the impact and slouched forward to the young man's dismay to drop it's weight on top of him, blood and other fluids splattering over his face which helped little to none to quell the surging bile in his throat. He grabbed the corpse's shoulders with quivering hands attempting to push the deadweight off of him, but before he could a strong grip on the back of his neck dragged him out from under the body and tossed him out of the way until he landed roughly on his metal shoulder. Biting back a pained groan he shifted to his other shoulder in time to see Jack marching up to the lifeless psycho sprawled out to the ground, hissing curses and mumbled profanity.

“Sick piece of skag shit.” He growled, pointing the gun close range and firing off another shot into the corpse causing Rhys to wince. He watched Jack closely, taking note of the way he stood over the body quietly and scowled hard, as if it would cower under the feared man.

After a moment of prolonged silence Jack tucked the gun back into the holster under his jacket and paused before whirling his body a complete 180 to face Rhys, and at the sight of Jack's hauntingly furious expression the younger man flinched back as if he too was shot point blank. Damn, that look sent a shiver of fear up his spine. He wanted to ease away, to turn invisible and get the hell out of the cave, far away from that vehement stare.

“Seriously, kid? The bastard's on top of you wanting your... _meat sacks,_ er, whatever the hell _that_ means, and all you can say is ' _you can't have it?_ _'_ _”_

Oh. That. Rhys definitely wanted to turn invisible now.

Jack rolled his eyes so hard his head lolled back, hands on his hips to accentuate his exasperation. “Christ, he was gonna maul you and you politely decline? This isn't fighting with your sister over a doll, princess.” Rhys dropped his gaze to stare at the ground in front of his feet. His metal arm rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, suddenly feeling more ashamed than embarrassed. So much for not being anyone's damsel.

“M'sorry, Jack….” the younger man mumbled under his breath.

“Sorry? Sorry isn't going to save your ass out here, kiddo.”

“Well, what was I supposed to do?” Rhys snapped back defensively, “He had me pinned. Plus, it wasn't like I invited him to attack me. He surprised me!”

“A psycho that sneaks up on people? Bullymongshit. Were you napping or something?”

Rhys opened his mouth to retort, but closed it immediately and glanced away once more to stare at the cave wall. He made his answer clear to Jack without even saying anything.

“That was your first mistake, sleeping beauty. I told you to keep watch. See what happens when you don't listen to Handsome Jack?” It was ridiculing enough being lectured like he was a child, so instead of answering Rhys kept his mouth shut. Thankfully Jack didn't pry for the answer. He heard the other man advancing toward him but his eyes remained on the cave wall to the right of him. Jack crouched down to meet eye level and when Rhys still didn't give his attention to the man he felt his chin firmly gripped between a calloused thumb and index finger, pulling his face back to meet the scrutiny of blue and green irises.

Jack let out a sigh so heavy it dropped his shoulders. “Don't make that stupid face. It makes me consider the thought of feeling slightly guilty for yelling at you.”

By now Rhys has learned a bit of the man's language, so if he was correct in his translation he was sure that from Jack to English that translated as a partial _I'm sorry_ _for yelling at you_ _._ But even that was a big enough reason for Rhys to give in and lock his eyes with the other mans. A flood of diffidence overcame Rhys and he pursed his lips with the hesitance of saying his next choice of words. “I only closed my eyes for a few minutes…I didn't realize...”

“It only takes a second, kitten.” Jack's tone had taken a quieter, more wiser tone than before that startled Rhys and he realized something; him and Jack were having a _moment._ He could feel his cheeks and his ears getting warm at the thought, the familiar annoying flutter in his chest creeping up on him before he could fight it off.

As soon as the moment happened it was no longer there. Jack stood up abruptly, the hand that gripped his chin let go and extended out for Rhys to grab hold. In turn he looked up at the older man with wide confused eyes, which was met with a wide toothy grin.

“C'mon, pumpkin. We'll come back here later. That little bastard's camp shouldn't be too far. Knowing them they travel in packs. Well...” he let out a chuckle that turned Rhys' blood cold.

“...Let's go wreck their shit up, shall we?”

 

 

 

True to Jack's hunch, it wasn't a very long journey before they found the dead psycho's campsite where they discovered two lone bandits huddled around a makeshift fire listening to propaganda from a tiny radio, random belongings scattered around them. Both the CEO and PA were crouched behind a large rock nearby, keeping out of sight – which was Rhys' idea that had won from a small argument on the trip there. It was either that or Jack busted in guns blazing.

“I wish I could hear what station they have on,” Rhys whispered, “sounds like Hyperion broadcasting.”

“That's nice, pumpkin.” Jack didn't seem like he was listening to him, instead he eyed the skewered meat cooking above the fire. “Oh man, you smell that? God, I just realized how hungry I am.”

The chestnut haired man rolled his eyes, but remained vigilant. “Maybe they have an echo communicator.”

“Let's find out.” Jack cocked his pistol and made to stand but was jerked back by the tug on his jacket. He looked down and met Rhys' frantic expression. “What are you doing?” he hissed, and Jack merely raised a questionable eyebrow at his young adviser. He waggled the gun in his hand. “What do you think?”

Rhys frowned. “Do we have to kill them? Can't we just...knock em out and take their stuff?” His question was answered with a pained groan.

“Rhysie, sweetheart, babycakes, _must_ you make things harder than they should be?”

With full intention of arguing his case Rhys was immediately silenced when they heard the conversation between the two bandits, and he crouched lower bringing Jack down with him who for once gave in to Rhys' request and listened to the conversation.

“Do you believe what they're saying all over the radio, Mike? It's on every station.”

Mike, the other bandit, gave a muffled answer like he was talking through a mouth full of food. “Nah. It's repetitive at this point. Said the same crap a few years ago, then six months ago something different. And now this….bah, it's all nonsense.”

“You think so?”

“Don't get your hopes up. I'll give it _three_ months this time before they say he's come back good as new.”

There was a pause. “...the man's a fucking demon. Just never stays down, ya know?”

Jack and Rhys exchanged questionable glances. Were they talking about Jack?

One of the bandits busted out laughing, assuming it was Mike with the way he almost choked on his food. “Demon doesn't even begin to describe it. He's like the fucking Satan of this Hell.”

Rhys rolled his eyes again and turned his attention back to the camp when Jack grinned smugly, almost _bashfully_. “Yeah, they're talking about me.” Good lord, how a comment like that could stroke any ego he'd never know and frankly didn't want to.

The bandit's continued their small talk. “I've heard rumors and such, about the destroyed towns and eridium experimentation, but that's about it.”

“Oh, I've heard worse. Do you know what he did to his own daughter?”

 _Oh, fuck._ Rhys palmed his face with his flesh hand. The poor bastards have unknowingly just signed their own death certificate. Every lizard, tree, and sensible human knew the first rule about Handsome Jack. _Never, ever,_ bring up his family. And he could practically feel the heat radiating off of Jack after that foolish comment.

“Jack...I know you want to kill them, but _please_ , let's just….Jack? Jack?” When he finally raised his head to look at the other man, he found that he wasn't even there. Oh crap. This wasn't good–

“AAAAAGH!!”

Rhys popped up from behind the rock instantly and gasped. One of the bandits were laid sprawled out and face down in the dirt, the other dangling in the air by his neck, squirming under the crushing grip of Jack's hand clenching around his throat. Acting fast he scrambled from behind the rock and ran over to the campsite, stepping over the body and approaching Jack with extreme caution.

He froze when he caught a glimpse of the twisted snarl on Jack's face, mimicking a rabid animal with all the mindless intent of ripping someone to shreds.

“You stupid stupid little bitch….don't you _ever_ fucking talk about her….like you fucking knew _her.”_

Rhys for the life of him knew not to intervene, knowing well this man's death would alleviate the pain of the sensitive nerve he clearly stomped on by mentioning Jack's daughter. The radio's broadcast caught his attention then, and he gladly turned away from the scene before him to focus on what had spurred the topic of the bandit's earlier conversation.

Another strangled cry sounded through the camp, most likely from Jack clenching his fist around the Pandoran's windpipe. “Y-You're….the devil….”

“You're _goddamn_ right I am.”

With a sickening _snap_ the body stopped it's manic squirming and fell limp. Either Jack didn't notice or he was still absorbed in his bloodthirst, he dropped the body to the ground and proceeded to stomp the corpse repeatedly.

Whatever was going on in the world around Rhys was lost to him. His lungs burned, and he realized he had stopped breathing when panic seized his body, limbs hanging numbly at his sides. Brown and blue eyes stared at the little radio as if it was the cause of all his life's problems, his physical pains, his inner turmoil.

“... _Jack_ ….” he managed a whisper that sounded miles away from his ears.

Through his current blind rage Jack must have caught the despair in the younger man's voice and he stopped kicking the lifeless body to turn to watch Rhys staring at the radio, following his eyes to stare at the object, his ears picking up the automated voice soon after.

“ _This is an urgent Hyperion announcement. It comes with great sorrow to confirm the deaths of Hyperion President and CEO Handsome Jack and his Personal Adviser Rhys, who met their heroic demise earlier this evening due to an unfortunate shuttle explosion on their return to Helios. Their remains have been incinerated along with the crew aboard the ship. No further details have been brought to light. The board has announced the campaign for the available positions to begin effective immediately...”_

The broadcast continued to repeat itself over and over, Rhys tore his gaze away slowly to lock eyes with Jack, who had mimicked the same action. They both stared at each other, the same wide realization setting in.

With one simple broadcast, it became evident that as far as the entire universe was concerned, Jack and Rhys no longer existed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed! I couldn't think of a suitable cliffhanger, so I stuck with that one. 
> 
> There was quite a bit of dialogue, but that's one of my favorite parts about Jack/Rhys. Their banter and conversations are so enjoyable :3


	4. Positives and Negatives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plot thickening moments in this chapter. Also, I threw some fluff in here for you, getting you ready for the inevitable filth from my dirty mind :3
> 
> Oh, and Rhys being a nerd <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are the best. For real, thank you for all the comments, the kudos, the bookmarks. I'm kind of new to the slash fiction thing, and seeing all this appreciation is...wow, just freakin wow!! :)

The Hyperion broadcast sounded for what must have been the twelfth time, and like the last dozen times Rhys sat in front of the radio and stared blankly, as if the next transmission would say something different. But he knew better, and ever since his knees had given out on him all he could do was sit in the sand and stare at that _stupid little radio._

Well, at least he wasn't doing any better than Jack. While he kept his aimless attention on the receiver, the newly appointed _ex_ -CEO glared intently at Helios, head raised aloft, his body stiff and his hands planted on his hips. He'd held that pose since the second announcement of their deaths, almost resembling one of his many gigantic statues throughout Hyperion. The man was either extremely pissed or extremely absorbed in his contemplation. Knowing Jack, it was most likely a perfect combination of the two.

If looks could kill, and with Jack's they often did, then Helios would be a smoldering heap of exploded metal in the sky.

Rhys followed Jack's hard stare to gaze up at the massive space station, watching with significantly less fury than the other man and instead more forlornly. The colossal yellow glowing eye between the towers almost seemed to stare back resembling an intense unblinking leer, as if to say to the world _no, dumbasses, they are right there. And they look like shit._

Strange how the fabricated voice for Helios sounded an awful lot like Jacks.

“Hey, dumdum.”

With a jolt the adviser whirled his head back to look up. In the time frame he'd been gawking at the orbiting corporation above Jack had managed to tower over him, forgetting to remove the twisted scowl from his face that made Rhys inch back in caution. “J-Jack?” Oh no, was he about to get beaten to quell the man's boiling rage? Well, it technically may have stated somewhere in the contract of his job description that he was to be a human punching bag to Jack's inept temper when the moment called for it, and even though he'd never exercised it, there was a first for everything.

When he heard the pops of Jack's knuckles from his clenching fists, Rhys closed his eyes with a wince and readied for a smack, a punch, a kick, strangulation, whatever the older man would dish out on him. When nothing happened he chanced a glimpse on what he expected would be a raised fist coming at him, but what he got instead was a raised eyebrow.

“What are you _doing_?”

Rhys blinked repeatedly at the question. “I...uh, I thought...you were gonna...hit me?”

Jack tilted his head, giving him a quizzical look. “Hit you? Why would I...what, you want me to?”

“No! It's just,” in a moment of insecurity his metal arm lifted to rub the back of his neck. How was he going to put this in the most levelheaded way without setting the man off? “Well, you _did_ just find out you're dead and the corporation you've ruled for years are already searching for your replacement–Ouch!” Rhys quickly grabbed the back of his head and rubbed sorely where Jack smacked him.

“Thanks for the reminder, really. You're Advising skills are flawless.”

Okay, maybe he deserved that one. Better than being beaten by far. And as Jack turned his attention on the objects scattered about the camp, it became apparent that something was very off about his demeanor; he was taking this whole pronounced-dead-and-being-replaced thing _waaaay_ too calmly. Actually, watching him search around the camp nudging objects with his foot curiously as if he had nothing better to do was more terrifying than his rage shooting everything in sight and screaming threats at anything with a pulse. At least that was normal. This indifferent collected Jack was _not_ normal.

“Oh-ho? What do we have here?” Jack crouched to a makeshift pallet of worn blankets near the fire, digging out a bottle containing a brown substance. He stood and held the bottle up to further inspect it, popped the cork off the top and held the rim under his nose, and immediately ripped it away with a snort. “Damn,” he chuckled, “these scum suckers were drinking some strong stuff.” To Rhys' dismay Jack tipped the bottle back to take what started as a sip, which then turned to one gulp after another.

“Uh...hey you–?” He was hushed by a long index finger raised at him to _hold that thought,_ and with an agitated pout Rhys waited until the older man was done chugging his fill before leaning his head back with a rough satisfied sigh. “Ah, I needed that,” he laughed, corked the bottle, and tucked it into the inner pocket of his jacket with a few pats. “Papa's gonna enjoy you later, sweet thing.”

_'Oh for the love of….'_

“Hey, check this out, pumpkin. I found something for ya.”

Something was thrown his way, sliding through the sand to stop just short of Rhys' knees. He eyed the object curiously before reaching his cybernetic hand out to grasp it. He couldn't feel the texture, but he was certain it was an expensive type of black leather, from an animal he wasn't quite sure of, wrapped and sewn around a long sheath. The hilt of the object wrapped in unique patterns with the same type of leather only thinner. Definitely aged from prior use, but still in pretty good condition. He smoothed the palm of his flesh hand over the rough texture of the leather and the stitches.

“Whaddya think, kiddo? I'll let you hold onto it if you promise not to chop your own freakin head off.”

Ignoring the other man's diatribe, Rhys stared at his new weapon unable to stop himself from smiling. He had to admit he was never one for guns – a trigger happy boss will do that to you, not to mention he never got use to the recoils – but he never got the opportunity to try his hand at a sword. Other than the decorative antique set he kept mounted on his wall in his bedroom, for the record it was _completely_ normal and _not_ nerdy for a grown man to have decorative antique swords, he was always too busy climbing the corporate ladder and figuratively slipping on the blood of backstabbed coworkers to make his way to the top to focus on swordsmanship, or any kind of physical combat for that matter.

“This...” Rhys sucked in a gasp when he released the sword from its sheath, watching the glimmering metal slide out of it's durance, stretching his arm out to accommodate the space it needed to fully unveil itself. It was sharp, it was long, it was powerful, it was…

“So...freaking... _awesome!”_ Rhys didn't even care that his voice cracked like a puberty stricken teenager, didn't care that right now he was stranded out in the middle of nowhere with his sadistic boss, could give two shits about his growing dehydration. He had _the_ coolest sword right now. He turned to Jack with a wild grin and realized the man had been watching him the entire time, meeting his ecstatic expression with a surprised look of his own, as if the man had seen something in Rhys he'd never seen before. That made two of them, because Rhys couldn't say he'd ever been given that kind of look before, but what the hell, he had just been given a badass weapon. Nothing could ruin this for him.

As if caught with his hand in the cookie jar, Jack cleared his throat and leaned on one hip, tearing his eyes away to look at seemingly anything but his young adviser with a haughty snort.

“Take a cold shower, wouldya? It's just a crappy little butter knife.”

Still grinning Rhys sheathed the sword, held it firmly in his flesh hand, and put his metal hand on his knee to lift himself up, instantly regretting the action when a blunt ache crawled up the right side of his back forcing him to a crunched sitting position, hand dropping the sword next to him to instinctively clutch his side. He bit back the hiss that threatened to slip between his lips. Okay, whatever that was, it _really_ hurt.

Consumed in the sudden shock of pain Rhys failed to notice the narrowing of a sideways glance, watching his slip-up silently.

Rhys recovered quickly when Jack began walking up to him, playing off the abrupt pain like he was posing for some invisible camera, his winced smile giving away his discomfort. Whether Jack acknowledged it or not he said nothing about it, striding almost past him before stopping short to clench a massive hand around his forearm and lift him to his feet weightlessly.

“C'mon, we can't keep dickin around here. Grab what you think is useful and let's head back to the cave. Time's a wasting.”

The comment had Rhys whirl his head in Jack's direction, careful not to bump into the other man because all of a sudden they were so _very_ close, almost chest to chest and Jack's iron grip still latched around his forearm. It also didn't help that they were basically the same height, the infinitesimal inch difference that Rhys had over him was never dared to be mentioned aloud.

“Uh, that's fine, but...why do we have to hurry?”

His answer was an immediate flipped switch. Jack's chest rumbled with a deep chuckle that most certainly did _not_ sound like the comical one from before. _This_ laugh sounded like he had just set fire to an entire town and watched it burn from the top of a hill.

“So cute when you're playing dumb. Isn't it obvious? We're going to Helios, kitten.” And before Rhys could retort the obvious back to him, that it would take a lot more time than what was expected, that they basically had to start from scratch to get home, Jack leaned in dangerously close until their noses practically touched. Rhys felt his skin prickle at the phantom electricity in the air, or was that Jack's aura? He couldn't make sense of anything anymore, not when the man was _so damn_ _close_ to him, a sinister smile tugging at the corner of his lips and eyes burning with so much bloodlust it turned him pale at the sight.

With one strong hand on his arm another gripped his chin, holding his head steady as a rough thumb played at his bottom lip, a hot breath danced on his now reddened cheeks that spread to his ears.

“Because when I'm done ravaging this filthy excuse of a planet...” Jack's voice was low and rough, “...I'm going to rip through that space station so fast those bastard's heads will fucking spin...on spikes...that will decorate the Hub of Heroism as a friendly little reminder of why you shouldn't mess with Handsome _goddamn_ Jack and what's his.” In emphasis the hand on his arm and the one on his chin squeezed, erupting a silent gasp of air from Rhys' lungs.

All at once the touch had vanished, the skin burning where Jack had touched him. He stood there, numbly, and watched Jack's retreating back. He paused once next to the fire to rip the roasting meat shish kobab from above the flames, taking a bite out of a section of the meat as if it wasn't hot as hell and previously roasting in red hot flames.

Continuing his pace, Jack raised a finger at Rhys without turning around, wagging the finger in a back and forth motion.

“Tick Tock, Rhysie.”

A sudden thought popped into Rhys' head. And just once, vowing to never say it aloud, that he could agree with the dead bandit's last words which played in his mind like a broken record.

 

 

 

Hours later, when the sun had managed to dip past the top of the distant mountains taking with it the daytime sounds of Pandoran wildlife in exchange for the croaks and chirps of the evening, Rhys huddled as close as he could to the crackling fire seeking the warmth without getting caught on fire. A shiver racked his frame from his hips to his shoulders, the knots in the muscles in his back screaming at him.

He wasn't quite sure what hurt his back more; the chill in the air or the repercussions of his mispronounced death weighing on his shoulders.

There were a lot of people depending on him.

The assurance he always gave Vaughn to wipe the concerned frown from his face, telling him everything would be okay and he most certainly would _not_ be assassinated, poisoned, shot into space by Jack, or blown into pieces. He could just see the look on his best friend's face now, bitterness of an _I told you so, asshole_ contorted with devastation.

Fiona and Sasha would probably have a similar reaction –well, more _I told you so_ and less devastated, and one would probably have lost a bet to the other. But this was the last of Rhys' concerns with the two ex-con artists. Wherever they were in this world; Fiona the rookie Vault Hunter in whatever galaxy she's currently venturing through, and Sasha gallivanting God-knows-where with August by her side, would definitely find out about this, would shake their heads and mock the promise he made them.

If only Rhys could tell them at this very moment that he was not someone to break promises, that we was very much alive, and the deal they struck had actually been in motion for three months. Three months of so much overtime he never thought the bloodshot would leave his eyes or the bags under them would ever go away. Investing millions soon-to-be billions of dollars directly from his personal bank accounts, thank God for free lunches or he'd have starved to death by now, to ensure this operation was well funded and the accountants would not notice large quantities of money leaving corporate accounts for some highly classified file layered in access codes and security walls and not bothering to bring this to Jack's attention.

Oh yeah, that tiny little detail he had forgotten to mention. Jack didn't know anything about his little side project. Neither did Vaughn for that matter, but he wasn't worried about Vaughn horrifically dismembering him like Jack surely would if ever finding out about it. So far he could say he was proud of himself that he could hide this one operation from Jack's radar.

Rhys then pulled his intent stare at the flames to steal a glance above the fire to the devil himself. Body stretched out with one ankle hooked over the other, shoulders resting against the wall of the cave, two hands loosely clutching the tipping bottle of alcohol to his chest, Jack had remained in that position for the past hour or so, eyes closed and head tilted back against the wall. He knew the man wasn't sleeping, that much was obvious, and he wasn't drunk either. He was just...sitting there, silently.

A tinge of guilt overcame Rhys at the thought of keeping a secret from the man. He had planned to tell him eventually of his private investments and operations...he just preferred a lot later than sooner, that maybe Jack would see it for what it is and actually come to understand his intentions….

“Stop staring at me, cupcake.”

Rhys blinked furiously at the words intruding his thoughts, coming to the embarrassing realization that he had indeed been staring at Jack the entire time he was consumed on the topics in his head. What was worse was Jack hadn't even opened his eyes, it was _that_ obvious.

“I-I wasn't staring at you.” Rhys stuttered weakly, the blush staining his cheeks thankfully going unnoticed.

Jack snorted. “Yeah, sure you weren't. S'all right, can't blame you for sneakin a peak.” He flashed a lazy grin.

“...” Rhys rolled his eyes, saying nothing.

“Don't roll your eyes at me, kitten.”

“Wha? How'd you even…?”

This time Jack cracked his blue eye open at Rhys, his grin only growing wider. “News flash, kiddo, I lived in your head for a while. Your reactions are _so_ predictable.”

The younger man kept quiet, letting the frustrated pout say it all and hopefully not the blush. They stayed quiet for a moment, letting the sounds of the crackling flames fill the cave. When Jack spoke again his tone had taken on a more inquisitive edge. “So, whatcha thinking about? Well, besides me of course.”

Technically he _was_ thinking about the older man. _'About how I'm keeping a huge secret from you, and that you'll mutilate me if you ever found out about it.'_ Rhys shrugged and instead indulged the question with another honest answer. “Just...thinking about my friends….” When he got no reply he looked back up to the other man and noticed both eyes were closed and he remained still. And then the notion came over him; that was one way to kill a conversation. How does one talk about friends to someone who has none?

One thought struck another. Jack had no living relatives as far as Rhys knew, no one of mention that he ever spoke fondly about. Was...was Rhys the closest thing to a _friend_ that Jack had? Well, he wouldn't go as far as assuming Jack considered him a friend. Personal Adviser, punching bag, ex-meat prison, but friend? He never thought about that before.

“Typical Rhys,” the rumbling chuckle drowned out the fire's melody and brought Rhys' attention back to man on the other side of it. His brows knit in confusion.

Jack continued, this time suspiciously slurred. “Always thinking about everyone else but never yourself. S'what probably makes you so friggin ditzy.”

Was that suppose to be a jab at him? He wasn't quite sure how to take that comment, but he felt a tinge of irritation prod at his nerves.

Jack titled the bottle to his lips, adding in smugly before taking a sip, “You remind me of me when I was your age, putting _everyone_ first. You'll learn what that does to you soon enough when they stick a dagger in your back.”

Rhys could feel his hands tense at his sides, his eyes narrowing when Jack's words were becoming patronizing. He could deal with the insults to his person, the name calling, the constant verbal harassment, but when it came to the loyalty of his friends….

Before he could stop himself, he let out a quiet growl in retort. “I'd rather they stab _me_ instead of themselves to get _away_ from me.”  _Oh. Balls._ Rhys immediately regretted saying something so stupid. Jack suddenly stopped sipping from the bottle, holding it to his now vicious snarl, both green and blue eyes suddenly open and staring in angry disbelief.

“The hell you just say?”

Okay, time to get the fuck out. Rhys lifted himself up, ignoring the eyes following him and the sudden burning ache of his back with his movements, and turned to leave the cave. “I'm gonna get more firewood.” He threw back hastily, a shake in his tone he hoped went unnoticed.

“Get back here, you little shit!”

How Jack had closed the distance between them so fast was unreal, and he felt a heavy force wrap around his cybernetic arm and flip him around so fast it almost gave him whiplash. He was expecting to be thrown right into a fist, or the next hand to grab him would be around his throat. What he wasn't expecting, however, was the pain in his back to erupt full force at that moment, pulling a harsh cry from Rhys' throat and taking his legs out from under him. The grip on his robotic arm released and the young brunette collapsed in a shaky heap on the dirt floor, arms wrapping around his torso. Tears sprung from the corner of his eyes, teeth clenching until his jaw trembled.

“H-Hey!” Jack called out to him, more surprised than angry now. “C'mon kid, I barely friggin touched you!”

Vision blurry with pain and tears Rhys looked up at Jack towering above him, hands up like he wasn't apart of it, the prior snarl now a confused frown.

“N..No...it's….” God, it even hurt to talk, to breath, “...my back.” He felt Jack crouch down next to him, hands suddenly on his shoulders pulling him up into a sitting position were...strangely gentle.

But the pain continued, and Rhys gasped, “S-Stop, Jack...” but the other man ignored him, steadying his sway with a firm hand on his shoulder, he used the other to untie the knot of his suit sleeves from around his waist. Once undone Jack made for the buttons of his undershirt and began to pluck each undone with a simple flick of his index finger and thumb in a swift skill that made the younger man sputter in shock.

Woah, hold on a sec. Was this all apart of a pain induced hallucination...or was Jack undressing him?

Rough, warm fingers burned the soft flesh of his sternum and he gasped. Okay, this _was_ real, really real, the realist moment of his life.

“J-Jack,” he gasped, but not from pain, “w-what are you…?”

“Taking advantage of you.” Jack deadpanned, raising an eyebrow when he noticed the obvious reddening of Rhys' face, neck, and ears at the comment. “Jeez, what's it look like I'm doing? Now shut up and hold still.” His eyes went back to undressing his young adviser, leaving Rhys to stare at him as if he'd lost his damn mind. Wasn't he about to literally maim him only a few minutes ago?

Knuckles brushed his stomach, and Rhys couldn't stop his body from shuddering. He _seriously_ hoped Jack didn't notice that.

All of a sudden the shirt was being peeled off his shoulders, soft yanks pulled it down his arms to let it fall to the ground behind him. A large palm flattened on each side of his ribcage, and Rhys nearly jolted out of his skin. Jack pressed in slightly to keep him still. “Easy kiddo, I'm just checkin for...holy mother of bawls, Rhys….”

“What!?” Rhys panicked when Jack's brows shot up in alarm, eyes wide and locked onto something on Rhys' side. “What is it, is it bad?” He began to squirm, inclining his head and lifting his arm to get a better view.

Holy mother of bawls was right. The first thing he saw was an outer rim of angry red swollen skin, blending into an array of deep purple, almost blue-black flesh in a full circle down the right side of his back. He watched as Jack's fingers ghosted over the discoloration.

“The pain's coming from your ribs, kitten. A couple of them are busted up pretty good.”

Rhys winced, but remained still as Jack's fingers probed the bruising. “I guess...it must have been from the fall. It just kinda crept up on me the longer we've been wandering around the desert.” Jack retreated his grip on Rhys, who brushed his own fingers on the bruise careful not to apply too much pressure on it. A ripping sound tore his attention away to see Jack shredding his suit jacket with bare hands.

“Jack...why are you–?”

“Shut up, kitten. You're distracting me.” And this time Rhys didn't argue. He stayed silent and watched as the older man finished tearing the jacket into long pieces of cloth. Gathering the cloth pieces he grabbed one and looped it tightly around Rhys's back and chest, starting another where the last strand ended.

If they ever survived Pandora, no one would ever believe this story. That the feared, murderous, malicious Dictator of this planet and CEO of Hyperion would be bandaging his wounded Adviser in some nowhere cave. Even Vaughn would guffaw and label it as one of Rhys' _fanboy fantasies._

For now he remained quiet, tired from the pain, awestruck from the look on Jack's face as he continued to wrap the strips of cloth around his chest. It was kind of...well, nice. Weird, but having Jack's full attention on him, hands on his chest, gliding over his bare skin, eyebrows knit in deep concentrated on Rhys' naked torso. Definitely a new experience, more intimacy than Jack had shown him before. Maybe...maybe he was wrong about Jack considering him something close to a friend?

Rhys mumbled something under his breath causing Jack to glance up from his work. “What did you say, kiddo?”

“I said...” he rubbed the back of his neck, the act becoming instinctual every time he was embarrassed or uneasy, and gave Jack a quick sideways smile, “...thanks, Jack. For...ya know….”

“Don't get soft, or I'll punch you square in the ribs. I'm doing this only cause I can't have you dragging your ass and slowing us down.”

Right. Well, Jack would never admit it, but the smirk on the man's face was a good enough hint to Rhys.

Suddenly the wrapping stopped.

“Take a deep breath. This might hurt.”

“Hm? What do you–Oh my God!!” Jack must have tied a knot or something in the bandage, securing the makeshift bandages to his ribs. And it hurt like an absolute bitch, so much so he subconsciously arched his body away from the pain sending all his weight into Jack, hands coming up to grasp the man's shoulders tightly.

Bigger hands grabbed Rhys' waist for balance, but it was too late as Jack lost his footing and fell backwards with a grunt onto the hard ground taking the thinner man with him.

It wasn't before the pain subsided long enough for Rhys to realize what the hell just happened, but the moment he realized his face was smashed into the strong chest below him he immediately planted his hands on the ground and lifted his head up, and if it wasn't for the hands anchored on his waist keeping him in place he would have thrown himself completely off the man below him, because if someone were to walk by the entrance of this very cave at this precise moment, they'd see one half naked Rhys sprawled on top of and straddling one Handsome Jack.

He looked down expecting a snarl or a scowl at having knocked Jack onto his back. The _last_ thing he ever expected was to see a wide toothy grin and eyes twinkling with pure mischief.

“Now _this_ is the kinda thanks I'm talking about, kitten.” He waggled his eyebrows, and Rhys swore his face was going to catch fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I PROMISE, next chapter is going to be insane. I already have the entire thing outlined, that's how proud I am of this story taking such a badass twist. :) Let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!


	5. Impulsion and Desire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't even supposed to be apart of the story yet, like seriously, none of this was in the original draft.
> 
> But you know what? You guys are fucking awesome. The comments, kudos, bookmarks, hits, ah!! You make me feel so awesome! This for all of you so appreciate my story. 
> 
> So here you are, some good old, chapter length SMUT. 
> 
> Enjoy~!

 

“Why, Rhysie...” Jack's tone was _too_ sultry, or maybe Rhys had never heard him sound like that before, “I gotta say, pumpkin, this is the second time you've forced yourself on me.” Thick fingers danced adroitly on his hip bones finishing with a light playful squeeze.

And oh did Rhys try his damnedest to ignore those fingers, trying to turn whatever naive wide eyed stare and boyish blush at the intimate touches into a look of pure aversion at the man's words. It seemed like eternity that they laid there, the younger man almost blanketed over his superior's body, neither making the attempt to shove the other off. Rhys could blame his lack of attempt on complete shock. Jack's excuse...well, he couldn't really say. If the man was offended Rhys would already be sporting one hell of a shiner. To his adroit it seemed to have an opposite effect, and that shit eating grin he was staring directly at was the dead giveaway.

Jack's words finally sunk in, and Rhys pursed his lips. “I...I haven't forced myself on you at all.” Okay, so it was a pretty weak rebuttal. But he wasn't a pervert, dammit, and he would _not_ stand for Handsome Jack of all people to accuse _him_ of that.

“Hmph,” a sarcastic snort, “ _sure._ Whatever you say….” There was a pause, but Jack was obviously not finished. “I guess you can file this one away with the rest of your little fantasies, huh, sweetheart?” He added with a wink.

Rhys immediately sputtered. How did he know about...that wasn't the point. Newfound courage flooded the younger man's chest, and without thinking he pushed himself up into a sitting position and crossed his arms. He stared down at Jack, matching the smirk with a defiant glare. “ _My_ fantasies? Okay, sure. Like how _my_ hands are wrapped around _your_ waist? Or do I have this the other way around?” Wow. He couldn't believe he just said that. And judging by how fast Jack's eyebrows had just shot up, neither could he.

The surprise on the older man's face was short lived, and Rhys watched with diminishing gallantry as a large toothy grin nearly split his face, eyes suddenly alight with mirth. Jack's thumbs began kneading into the hollow of Rhys' hips, hands clamping down a little harder as if to hold him place. He knew he was beginning to tread into a foreign territory with Jack, which was something he wasn't technically new to, just never instigated it like he was now. The other man could entertain himself with the material he had to work with, could keep himself entertained until he had his fill. Sadly, this was never to Rhys' benefit, because the man would push, would touch, would hiss subtle nothings in his ear with that stupid handsome smirk, and in one fail swoop would unknowingly leave Rhys a befuddled, blushing, panting mess.

But the way those thumbs worked his hips, those fingers danced, the way those eyes sparkled with a challenge...who was he fooling? He had already crossed the threshold into that dangerous territory, farther now than he ever had, and he wasn't slowing down.

“So feisty all of a sudden, kitten.” Jack sat up abruptly, holding Rhys in place with his iron grip and stopping when his nose brushed the thinner man's. “But you're forgetting _who's_ sitting in  _whose_ lap like a dirty little harlot.”

Rhys' eyes narrowed, _not_ liking the idea of what was he was suddenly compared to. He brought his hands up to balance himself on Jack's shoulders readying to push himself up. “Fine. I'll get up, if that's what you think–”

If those large hands gripped him any tighter he swore there would be bruising, and his attempt to get off the other man was stopped short when Jack dragged him back down to grind his crotch against his causing his back to arch into the hold. Those sparkling heterochromic eyes darkened into a gaze almost animalistic.

“Aw, you mad, pumpkin? Gonna run away? I'm not surprised.”

Rhys' lip twitched. That selfish, blind, narrow minded sack of...after six months of toying with him and leaving him with nothing, to get so _damn_ close, torturing him, only to back off and shut him out and do it again, and again, and…!

The hands still holding onto Jack's shoulders trembled with indignant rage, his own shoulders setting as he bristled, “ _You're_ the one always running, _asshole!”_

Composure was always something Rhys prided himself on, to never break down and give in to angry outbursts. But it didn't matter anymore. He'd just succumb to his own vulnerability and lashed out at Handsome Jack, and now he would be gutted and left for dead. What a wonderful way to die, he could admit to himself, to have the last breathing moments of his life calling Jack an asshole while straddling the man half nude.

Rhys' right hip was left bare, the hand holding him there now curled into his chestnut hair latching onto his scalp with brutal force. He winced, closing his eyes and clenched his teeth to prepare for the inevitable. The hand yanked his head forward, and he found his lips crushing against Jack's.

Jolts of phantom electricity played at his nerves, comminuting every sense of his being. He remained still, feeling Jack's lips dominate his, teeth gnashing together. It was draining him, Jack was draining the life out of him and he could nothing to stop him. He...didn't want to. He didn't care. He wanted more, and he got what he wanted when he felt the other man's tongue push through his teeth to invade every space in his mouth, dancing across the back of his teeth to collide with his own tongue.

Rhys practically mewled at the sensation. Fuck it, he didn't care how pathetic he sounded. If Jack's kisses could kill he'd gladly die a whimpering mess.

Jack retracted his tongue, and snarled against Rhys' lips. “You think I _run_ from this?” The hand still on hip motioned him to rock against him, the friction creating a heat like no other, moving until Rhys began his own automatic pace. The grip on his scalp held him in place so the younger man couldn't pull away even if he wanted to.

“You...have no idea...” he hissed between breaths, “just who...the hell I am...do you?” His hand lowered to the nape of Rhys' neck, pushing the man impossibly closer to deepen the kiss. When the young adviser didn't answer Jack sucked his lip between his teeth and bit down, forcing a yelp out of him.

“ _Well_?”

“Nngh...hah, y-you're...H-Handsome Jack.” Rhy moaned, breaking the kiss to pull his wounded lip back and nurse it with his tongue.

“You're damn right.” Jack growled, slightly panting. His eyes were feral, looking hungrily over Rhys' disheveled appearance with a smug smirk. His hips jutted up and into the younger man's, smirk growing when the action earned him an exasperated moan. He moved his hand from Rhys's neck to grab his jaw roughly, forcing him to keep his half lidded eyes locked onto his.

“And Handsome Jack doesn't _run,_ baby boy. He merely...” his eyes dropped to stare at the lips he had just attacked viciously, “doesn't want to break his pretty little kitten.”

There was a pause, then a low chuckle that Rhys felt creep up his spine. “Unless you want him to?”

 _God,_ Jack talked way to much, and the third person speech was getting on his already frazzled nerves. There was only one way to shut Jack the fuck up. His hands left the broad shoulders to thrust them underneath Jack's many layers of clothing, both metal and flesh fingers clawing up the bumps and grooves of muscle. He bit his lip and gave the bigger man the most neediest look he could muster.

“Shut up and break me, Jack.”

In seconds he was on his back against the cold ground, Jack between his legs and hovering inches above him, the biggest, most lecherous grin he'd ever seen the man wear. “If you insist.” And dipped his head to plant his lips onto Rhys'.

Time seemed to skip like a damaged roll of film then, because the next thing Rhys knew Jack was standing up on his knees before him, impatient fingers tugging the man's pants and boxers down his thighs in one swift go. His shoes were gone at this point, somewhere he didn't give two shits about, socked feet digging into the dirt. The chilly air stung his swollen dick and he hissed, when he had gotten so hard so fast he couldn't say. He was too busy staring at the large bulge in Jack's pants to worry about his own erection.

His flesh hand had a mind of it's own, lifting up to grasp clumsily for the rim of Jack's pants, fingers clenching around the belt and tugging impatiently, giving him a flustered look of _I want it now, dammit._ Seeing this, Jack smirked, and _God,_ was it the sexiest smirk Rhys had ever seen.

“All in good time, baby.” He chuckled, grabbing Rhys's hand by the wrist and pinned it firmly next to his head, leaning down to give him a chaste kiss, trailing it down his chin to plant small ones down the line of his jaw, his neck, stopping to nibble on the protrusion of the younger man's collarbone. Rhys gasped, bucking his hips upward to grind into Jacks. This was...amazing. He couldn't believe this was happening. In his fantasies they were in Jack's penthouse on luxurious satin sheets with the glow of Elpis the only light on them, or in the CEO's office bent over his massive desk as Jack pumped mercilessly into him.

Fucking on the cold dirt floor in some random cave somewhere in the Pandoran desert? Well, he could live with that too.

Jack had managed to reach his bellybutton by the time Rhys came out of his thoughts, and lifted his head to see what the man was doing.

“J-Jack, what are you—ahh!” Okay, wow, he just realized something about himself; his bellybutton was _really_ sensitive, so when Jack stuck his tongue in and swirled, he almost lost it. He slapped a hand over his mouth to stifle the whimper, and yelped when his hand was harshly ripped away. He looked down to see Jack glaring at him.

“Don't. I want to hear you.”

Rhys nodded numbly, and watched as Jack bit down on the soft flesh next to his navel, sucking on the skin and drawing out a long moan. When Jack stopped biting he drove his tongue into the thinner man's navel again, sending a ripple of shivers up his body.

“Ahn! J-Jack! F-Fuck!”

“ _Language_ , sweetheart.” Jack chuckled softly, crawling back up the lithe body beneath him, hovering so close above Rhys the heat of their bodies mingled. But it wasn't enough, dammit. He wanted more. He needed it. His arms shot up and wrapped around Jack's broad torso, fingers digging into his shoulder blades and lifted himself into the bigger man, chest against chest, lips connecting harshly, hungrily, as if it would be last meal he'd ever have.

The only sound he could hear over the sloppy smacking of their starved lips was the sound of Jack fumbling with his belt buckle between them, once getting the buckle undone he whipped the belt through his loops with an inhuman speed Rhys would have to inquire about later, too consumed with the smug realization that Jack's movements were hasty with an underlying hint of desperation. Good, Rhys thought rather conceitedly, that the big bastard would be just as deprived of this from his own antics of constantly toying with Rhys for months. Served him right–

Hot, thick, muscled flesh rubbed against his dick, erupting a startled moan from Rhys's mouth, tearing away from Jack's mouth to bury his face into his neck. Eyes momentarily rolling back in his own head when the mixture of Jack's cock grinding against his own, the scent of musk and sweat heavy in his nose, shit it was too much. Blunt fingertips dragged down the bigger torso above him, shaky with the overwhelming need for _more_.

“Mm, you make the best sounds, kitten,” Jack moaned roughly against his ear, lips playing at the port in his temple driving him wild. “Can't wait to hear what you sound like when I'm deep in that ass.”

“J-Jack...please...” _Come the fuck on and just do it,_ was the unsaid plead between them. If the man kept this up, Rhys didn't think he could hold on anymore.

He was too wasted on the pleasure to make sense of two fingers being inserted into his open panting mouth. “Suck, baby.” Was the whispered command in his ear, and without complaint Rhys did as he was told, swirling his tongue around the fingers, lapping at them hungrily.

The fingers were removed soon after with a wet _pop,_ and before Rhys could collect himself he felt his legs get lifted up and spread wide, one large hand gripping his right thigh, the other hand ghosting over his ass. One wet finger played around the tight muscle agonizingly before pushing in, stretching him. Rhys let out a whined cry, hips jerking and grinding into Jack's, unable to keep his body from squirming.

“J...Jack...ah…!”

“Just relax. _That's_ it, pumpkin. Just a little more.” Jack coaxed softly, almost comforting.

After a brief minute another finger was inserted, scissoring him, working _in_ , and _out,_ methodically pumping into him. Rhys opened his mouth to a silent scream. God, the man was driving him nuts with only his fingers.

“Hah, Jack…” this was dangerous, he was going to come if Jack didn't stop. He could feel the build up, skin prickling with euphoria too much to make sense of anything else other than this own growing orgasm. No, he didn't want to come being fucked by Jack's fingers. He wanted _him,_ all of him. Inside him. _Now!_

“For...the love of...Jack... _please!_ Just fuck me already!” Rhys growled, his pout more like a halfhearted snarl. Seeing him such a state Jack paused his movements and just stared down at him, eyes wild and feral as if something just suddenly snapped within him. It would have been almost terrifying if this was any other circumstance.

“Damn I'm gonna enjoy wrecking your sweet ass, baby boy.” He hissed between parted lips, and it was last words Rhys could grasp before Jack turned into a goddamn animal.

In one fluid motion Rhys was flipped onto his stomach with little time to steady himself on shaky elbows. A crushing grip on his hips soon followed, bringing his ass up high in the air, holding him firm as he felt Jack's lengthy cock fit snugly between his cheeks, spreading the saliva and precum over the tip of his cock.

Rhys shivered, dipping his head down and tucked it into the crook of his robotic arm, the burning heat of his flushed skin practically sizzling against the cool metal. He felt a large hand plant itself in the middle of his back, forcing him into an arch gently.

“Relax, sweetheart.” And with that, he felt the tip of Jack's dick sink in, the girth stretching him out. The pain struck him first, causing him to instinctively jerk away, but the hand on his back kept him still, fingers squeezing in a comforting manner. Jack inched in with each slow thrust, the pain bringing tears to Rhys' eyes.

But the pleasure riding off the pain was enough to stomach through it. He wouldn't call it quits now, God no, he had been waiting for this for so long, had fantasized about this since he was a grad student. Jack was slowly filling him up, full attention on him, no one else. It was _Rhys_ underneath the powerful man, no one else.

“Uh, _fuck, Rhys_.” An impatient jerk sent Rhys in a world of stars and colorful dots, and he arched up with an exasperated shout.

It was _his name_ on Handsome Jack's lips, no one else.

And Rhys loved it.

“ _Jack.”_ Rhys thrusted himself back into the rest of Jack's cock, completely filling him, because fuck the pain he just wanted all of Jack. Every damn bit of the man.

The Hyperion ruler let out a feral moan, landing a harsh slap on Rhys' ass, a moment of lost conscious thought or in appreciation he'll never know, didn't care to.

Their sex turned primal then, Jack losing his composure to thrust wildly into the other man, Rhys taking it all with panting cries of nonsense. Hands bruising, nails digging into soft flesh, skin slapping skin, bodies rocking wildly. The rough ground rubbed his knees and elbows raw, but he felt nothing but Jack hitting that spot that drove screams from his throat.

“You sound so good, kitten….” he could faintly hear the sweet nothings of Jack's voice through his pleasure, keeping him from completely losing it, but driving him closer all the same. “...Shit...never thought...you'd feel so...damn... _tight.”_

Rhys was so close, his orgasm so close his body for readying for it, tightening around Jack's cock, back almost bending in half as one wave of ecstasy crashed into him after another. He was drowning in it.

The drowning felt real when a strong arm wrapped around him to grab his chest, lifting him with such weightless force it knocked the breath from him. He was on his knees, hands fumbling for balance and shakily clutched the forearm fastened around his chest, his back against Jack's chest, the man's sweat slicked forehead resting against the crook of his neck. Rhys dipped his own head back to let it fall on the older man's shoulder.

“ _Fuck_ I'm close.” He felt the words tremble on his neck, driving his own orgasm that much closer. His own dick had been bobbing against his stomach with each thrust, suddenly coming to a halt when Jack snaked a hand down his stomach, his pelvis, to grab him and stroke with wild abandonment.

“Ahh! Jack, _Jack,_ ” the man's name was a pure melody on his tongue, _“Jack..._ I'm gonna...gonna cum…!”

He couldn't even get the rest of the nonsense out of his mouth before it hit him, blinding him, crawling up his nerves and prickling his skin. He came screaming Jack's name, hot sticky cum splashing across his stomach. He thought he head peaked then, but a sudden snarl in his ear ripped him from his finish as teeth clamped down onto his neck thrusting him back into that world of pure bliss.

After a few more thrusts both men went still, and Rhys allowed himself to finally go limp against the bigger body still holding him protectively, letting the arm still wrapped around him keep him upright. When the arm finally let go of him it took the remainder of his strength not to fall back to the hard ground, and he slumped forward slowly, whimpering when Jack's dick slid out of him as he went down, laying on his side not caring one bit about the dirt that would cling to his sweaty skin.

Rhys' entire world was hazy, nothing making sense or registering properly. He just kept blinking wearily, gulping the air back into his lungs, the aches and pains starting to slowly creep back into his worn body with the immense wave of exhaustion.

He could hear movement behind him, panting, shuffling, clothing being readjusted, the clicks and snaps of a belt being fastened, and lastly a hoarse chuckle.

“Damn, pumpkin. I don't even know where to begin….”

There was no strength left in Rhys to reply, preferring to just lay boneless. The other man must have noticed this, and he crouched beside him, brushing a hand over Rhys's sweaty forehead to wipe the damp bangs from his half lidded eyes.

“Hey, Rhysie, you still with me, babe? C'mon, I didn't screw you _completely_ brainless, did I?”

Despite the overwhelming tiredness, Rhys turned his head slightly and regarded Jack with a slight smile. “Kinda did….” The remark earned him a genuine laugh, deep and real and warm. It sounded nice. He'd like to hear that laugh more often.

Hands slipped under him and hooked underneath his shoulders and his knees, careful not to apply too much pressure to his injured ribs, and lifted Rhys up and into strong arms, tucking him against a broad chest. If he had any energy left he'd protest, telling Jack he'd be fine to get up on his own, that all he needed was a breather and he'd be good to drag himself up. But...to hell with it. If Jack wanted to carry him like a new fucked bride, so be it.

Soft lips pressed gently against his forehead between his brows, momentarily surprising Rhys at how affectionate the act was.

“You did good, kiddo.” Jack whispered against his skin. “Tough little kitten. Get some sleep, we gotta get up early tomorrow, make up for lost time.” He was carried back to the fire and laid gently between the warmth of the flames and the security of the cave wall. His pants were tugged back up his hips, something heavy, warm, and leathery fell on his bare torso. He made a mental note to thank Jack for the courtesy of fixing his clothing later.

Through heavy eyelids he watched Jack turn and walk away, toward the cave exit. He wanted to inquire where the man was going, if he'd be right back, if he'd get any rest too and if he did, maybe...would he lay next to him?

Darkness overcame him then, washing away all of the questions and pulling him into a deep sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this was pretty intense. I've never wrote a full length smut scene before, so I maaaay have had to listen to a bit of the Fifty Shades of Grey soundtrack to keep me going. Don't judge me lol.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed, because there's more of that where it came from! The next chapter will have a little of everything ;D
> 
> Until next time!


	6. The Train

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the delay in updating this story! I was hit with a major case of writers block. Not only that, but I started a new job shortly after I updated last time, I have FINALLY found the time to update. Thank you all for the wonderful comments and kudos and bookmarks and WOW. You guys are awesome :)
> 
> This chapter was suppose to be way longer, so I had to chop it in half lol. I hope you all enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for language and somewhat graphic violence.
> 
> And Rhysie being a total badass :D

“Yvette...you don't have to do this.”

“Rhys, I'm sorry. I really am, but this has to be done. There's no other way.”

“No, there's another way...there has to be!”

“...This is for the best.”

“Y-Yvette...no! No! Don't!”

It stung, an unimaginable burn surging through his veins. The feeling of metal stabbing into his skin was like no other.

“Aaagh! Yvette, why!?”

“Oh for God's sake, you big baby! It's just a needle!”

Yvette's cold fingers applied pressure to the spot on his shoulder where the needle stuck in, slowly withdrawing the syringe and swapping it swiftly with a cotton ball and a band aid, giving the spot a nice smack. Rhys whined and jerked his arm from Yvette's reach, giving her his best betrayed look.

“At least now you won't get Krom's Fever. I heard that one of the symptoms is uncontrollably explosive bowels.” Vaughn stated, leaning against the wall on the other side of the small white room, watching Rhys' fear of needles with a poorly hidden smirk.

“Sounds better than this.” Rhys grumbled, leaning away when Yvette pulled out yet another syringe, the twisted smile on her painted lips just as frightening as the glimmering needle.

“If you're going down there for a week you're going to need the proper shots. Pandoran viruses aren't like the ones we are use to.” Yvette said matter-of-factly.

“Vaughn and I were there like two weeks and we didn't get anything.”

“Which was a miracle, mind you.” Vaughn snorted, shrugging when Rhys shot him a _who's side are you on?_ glare.

“This one's for the Rakk Mumps.” And without warning Yvette stuck the needle in the crease of Rhys' elbow while he wasn't paying attention, ripping a high pitched yelp from the tall man.

“What is wrong with you!?” Rhys shrieked, “That's not how you give someone a shot!”

“It is when they're being a huge bitch about it.”

Vaughn let out a loud laugh and Rhys sputtered indignantly.

“Seriously, Rhys.” Yvette said, suddenly more composed and serious. “Be careful down there. Especially with who you're going with.”

Rhys blinked, glare switching to a curious look. He glanced between Yvette to Vaughn, both now wearing a completely different face, one more solemn and concerned. “I'll be okay. It's just a routine check in on some of the Eridium mines. Jack does these all the time.” He offered a smile of reassurance at his two best friends.

“Is there anything wooden in this room? I need to knock on it.” Vaughn adjusted his spectacles on the bridge of his nose with his middle finger, fixing his position on the wall to lean more comfortably.

“Cut it out,” Rhys replied with a roll of his eyes, “nothing's going to happen. I'll be fine. You guys worry too much.”

“Can you blame us?” Yvette said. She finished applying another band aid and threw the wrappers in the waste bin next to her. “You're going to Pandora with Handsome Jack.”

Vaughn added, “Yeah. I mean, six months ago Hyperion announced his return. The planet is still in an all out uproar over the news. It's like throwing a couple of lambs in a lions den.”

“Okay, one; don't let Jack hear you comparing him to a lamb. And two,” Rhys stood up from his chair, shoving his exposed arm through the sleeve of his shirt, “we'll be out in the desert, surrounded by heavy security, loader bots, the works. Nothing is going to go wrong. This won't be like last time.”

Both Yvette and Vaughn exchanged worried glances, Rhys being in the middle only scoffed at the two and finished buttoning his shirt.

“Wait, you still have one more.” Yvette reached for the table.

“Ugh, please, no more of this. I feel like a pin cushion.”

“Hush, Cry Baby. This one is going in your port.” She produced a small flash drive from the tray on the table, piquing both Rhys and Vaughn's interest as they stared at the woman curiously. It was a small, sleek, simple black drive with a yellow _H_ printed on the flat of the devise.

“I didn't know we had those.” Vaughn said.

“You'll need vaccinations for every type of virus on Pandora.”

Manicured nails gripped Rhys' jaw softly, holding him still as Yvette leaned in close and clicked the flash drive into Rhys' port. He flinched, not expecting the suddenness of it all, eyes straining to his left where Yvette's hand held the tiny object to his temple

“Am I, uh, suppose to feel anything?”

“You may hear some ringing every now and then. Just ignore it.”

“Okay. How long does this–”

“ _Rhys_.”

Blurs of colors swarmed his vision, spinning around him like a carrousel. He could hear frantic sirens blaring in his ear, voices shouting fearfully, commotion of movement bringing everything in one clustered noise in all direction.

“ _Rhys_!”

  
_Jack_? Somewhere through the blurred movement and blaring noise he could hear him shouting, calling out to him. Where was he?

“ _Sir! We can't avoid the next one!  It's a seeker!”_ It was the shuttle's pilot, voice shredded with sheer panic. What was going on? Before he could make sense of his surroundings a hard force came down on his back, throwing him off balance and he collided with the unforgiving metal of the floor beneath him.

“ _Jack…!?”_  


“ _Rhys_.” The voice that replied was not Jack's anymore. This voice was strangely tranquil compared to everything else around him, pitch light and unwavering.

“Get your ass up, Sleeping Beauty!”

Rhys launched himself up, hands grabbing his chest to quell his frantic heart. “Explosive needles..!” He shouted incoherently and ripped the leather jacket off of him. The blur of his dreams dissipated to the dark walls of the cave, the fire's dim ember glow allowing enough light for Rhys to see Jack's broad silhouette standing over him, hands on his hips and body tilted towards him. The orange glare of the dying flame shined in his eyes, the only part of Jack's features he could clearly make out.

"Rise and shine, sweet cheeks." That tone meant nothing good, and Rhys could see it clearly in the glimmer of a pearly white grin. It reminded Rhys fondly of an ancient children's folktale he'd been told as a kid; something about a little girl falling down a hole and a grinning, disappearing cat.

Jack chose then to lean down, nearly hovering above Rhys. His eyes burned through the darkness.

"We gotta train to catch."

 

 

 

 

  
The Hyperion Transit SK7 was a beauty only few on Helios had ever witnessed in person. Rhys had only seen these trains in company issued magazines; a whole multi page article explaining the vast capabilities and technological advances about the SK model line.

Rhys never was a car guy, that was Vaughn's department, but trains intrigued him greatly.

Even from yards away, perched upon a cliff staring down at the silver body gleaming at the florescent construction lights that shined above it, it was an amazing sight.

A gust of night air whipped through Rhys' hair and blew a few of his brown locks into his face. He ran his flesh hand over his hair to straighten it back into place. He scrunched his shoulders, hugging the brown leather jacket to himself closer and lavishing in the warmth trapped within with the scent of musk, singed leather, and gunpowder. The fact that he was still wearing the jacket still came as much as a shock to him as the moment he awoke, shimmying off the jacket to hand it back only to have it pushed back in his arms with a grunted _keep it for now_. He was thankful for the subtle act of generosity, because with only a light undershirt and business slacks, the desert night air could easily cut through the thin fabric to chill his bones.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" came a chuckle from his left. Rhys glanced over to look at a brightly smiling Jack, his signature hands-on-hips posture giving off a proud air. He stood at the very edge of the cliff looking down like a looming hawk who'd caught their field mouse.

Rhys glanced back down at the train station, imitating Jack's smile. "An actual Hyperion Transit SK7," he whispered breathlessly, "fastest speed recorded was 483 kilometers per hour, maximum operating speed at 395. Can take you from Trash Cove to Lockdown Palace in just 8 hours." He flinched when his reply was a sharp snort. He looked up and saw Jack staring at him with one eyebrow quirked.

He blanched at the stare, rubbing one hand on the back of his neck and smiled awkwardly. "Oh, uh, did I just go full nerd again? Sorry...."

"Yeah, kinda did. Didn't know you were into trains, kiddo." His tone was less antagonistic and more...light, as if he was impressed, his gaze curious instead of judging. Rhys practically beamed when he realized this.

" _Well_ ," he couldn't hold back the affectatious tone, chuckling, "I know some things about trains. Especially the SK line. They broke ground for the advancement of travel on Pandora. I thought they were all scrapped after you die..." his words dwindled when Jack shot him a daring look, "..d-were gone for a while."

"How'd you find this one?" Good save.

"She called out to me, like a big beautiful harpy." Jack folded his arms over his chest and smirked like a proud parent. "Literally. Few hours after you passed out in a sex coma I kept hearing something from the East, like a horn blowing. Knew instantly what it was."

"The thing about the SK7," he continued, "is that I designed this specific train to operate as a Automaton in the event that if something were to ever happen to me and these scum suckers were to tear it apart in some psychotic revolution, this cargo train could act on its own, could run continuously and never stay in the same spot for very long. She makes random, untimed stops to charge so you can never plan her next rest stop. She's not an easy bitch to take down, I can tell ya that."

Rhys listened to Jack quietly, mouth slightly ajar and eyes sparkling. He wasn't sure if the sex coma comment had caused the feint blush on his cheeks, or if it was Jack going on about his brilliant advancements and creations. Most likely the latter. Getting to know Jack and personally working under him had taken away some of the luster that was the amazing, impenetrable Hero of Hyperion, but in these moments he realized that behind the mask, literally, of arrogance and power, Jack was an extremely intelligent man, whose brilliance in engineering and programing knew no bounds. His flaws lied in his incapability to relate to others, to dictate and control to the point of abuse, but to never be able to keep the affection of another being for very long due to his serious trust issues, but for what he lacked in other areas he made up for in coding and engineering. Truly, it was something Rhys could only describe as astounding.

"Got the idea after a bad breakup, so yeah, I was pretty hammered when I designed her. Kinda proud about that one."

Truly astounding.

"C'mon, pumpkin, we'll miss her if we stand here talking all night. Let's get going." Rhys felt a grip on his elbow tug him forward. They began down the incline on the side of the cliff.

"W-Wait, we're getting on that thing?" Rhys stuttered, not sure if more anxious or excited.

"Weren't you listening, dumdum? The SK7 is fully self-operational. And she never stays in one spot for very long. Pick those spider ant legs up and get going, kiddo. This is our ticket home."

Rhys nodded and as soon as Jack let go of his hold to hurry down the side of the cliff he made to follow right behind, but stopped just short after only a few steps.

"Are you sure this is the right way down?"

“Don't question my direction when you're more backasswards than a blind skag, kitten.”

 Rhys shrugged. Why did he even bother…

A small noise sounded behind him, so meager he almost missed it had it not spiked in volume so suddenly after he heard it. Ringing? Buzzing? Strangely it sounded like a combination of both, like a strange and abrupt tinnitus in his ear. Subconsciously he inserted a finger in his ear and wagged it trying to rid himself of the noise, but it didn't stop.

There was a direction to the noise, stemming not in his head but from behind him. He turned to look around, staring blankly into the darkness. Eyes scanned the surrounding area; where the hell was that noise coming from?

He quickly glanced ahead to Jack, the man now farther ahead and silhouette disappearing into the dark. Obviously he didn't hear it or he would have inquired about it. It was only him that the noise was calling to....

Was it calling to him? A chill creeped up Rhys' spine; he'd rather not think of it like that.

“Rhys! Train! Now!”

The sound stopped, leaving nothing but an overbearing silence. He shook his head; what the hell was that all of a sudden? Perhaps the dehydration was finally catching up to him, or the lack of sleep, or hell, why not both? His brain could only take so much depravation.

Rhys hurried his pace toward Jack's angry shout, hoping to God there was some water stored on the train. He was starting to lose his mind, shivering when for a split second he could have sworn he saw the outline of silhouettes in the pitch black night around him. Hallucinations, he told himself, that's all they were.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The train station was a small, partially completed building that looked as if it hadn't been occupied in some time, giving off the haunting ghost-town like vibe. It was quiet save for the light humming of the train's motors. The loading bay extended out between the incomplete building and the train, no roof, instead tall piers with guarded florescent light fixtures perched high above them, probably giving light the overnight construction.

Rhys's eyes searched over everything around him in awe. He'd never been in a legitimate train station before. Even if it was partially built and abandoned, a little graffiti hear and there, it was still an amazing experience. He wondered around aimlessly before stopping in front of the door to the train. He smiled softly, raising his flesh hand to flatten it against the cool metal, could feel the hum against his fingers. He retracted his hand hastily when Jack came jogging into his line of vision.

"Okay, so, good news first; she seems to be running fine. Wonderful! Bad news; she doesn't seem to be at full capacity. Not so wonderful."

Rhys tilted his head. "What does that mean?"

"It means," Jack stopped only a few feet from Rhys, sighing to catch his breath and shrugged, "either she's coded to operate on an energy saver, or she hasn't been serviced well in a while, but the ride won't be as fast as you're expecting, kiddo. A little bumpier too."

Rhys shrugged, turning his attention back to the door. "As long as it can get us out of this desert, I'm fine with that." He placed his metal hand on the handle of the door, the other hand on the opening. Relying on the strength of his cybernetic hand he tried wrenching the door open. One heave, a few jerks, he even tried shaking it a little. But the door simply wouldn't open.

"Heh, little tougher than I thought. Just needs some _mmph_ ," he gave another jerk. Nothing. "Maybe a little... _nngh_ ," he put his foot on side of the door and pulled again. Still nothing. Damn door.

"I don't _ungh_ think we're gonna _hmmph_ be able to get in this way, Jack. I think this door's jammed or...ouch! Oh, oh my ribs...."

A hand reached ovesr Rhys' side and touched the smooth metal exterior, watching as bright digital numbers materialized. Fingers danced upon the numbers until there was a green light and a soft ding. The door moved on it's own then, taking Rhys with it as it shifted out and to the side. Jack withdrew one of his pistols, Rita from what Rhys could tell, and pointed it into the entrance.

Once Jack was sure the coast was clear he lowered his gun, set his shoulders, and tilted his head to meet Rhys's squinted glare, the younger man's body still gripping the door.

"You know," Rhys huffed and removed himself from the door, "you could have said something a little earlier."

"Nah, wanted to see how you were at problem solving these kinds of situations. Like, as if I would design this freakin thing and not make it withstand a stringbean trying to caveman his way in with his weak boy arm and busted ribs."

They crept slowly into the train, Jack leading the way with his gun at the ready. The inside of the train was surprisingly not as sleek and upgraded as Rhys would have imagined, but it was still a marveling site. The ceiling was lit by dim LED lights allowing Rhys to see the rest of the interior. Two long rows of seats adorned each side of the train allowing a roomy carpeted walkway between them. Above the rows of seats were luggage compartments, and implanted in the back of each seat was a small flat screen, for entertainment or instructions he wasn't sure the reason.

Rhys ran his flesh hand down the side of one of the seats, enjoying the soft leather under his fingertips. Jack stepped around him to pop open every luggage compartment and inspecting inside, searching for something Rhys wasn't sure of.

"What are you looking for?"

"These compartments usually contained small snacks, little bottles of booz, blankets, ya know that first class luxury crap. Seems like this place's been cleaned out." He threw the open the last compartment and finding nothing decided to shove it closed with a huff.

The blaring sound of a horn met Rhys' ears, and he felt the momentum of the train's movement nudge him back.

"So, what's our next destination?"

Jack shrugged. "Dunno, just glad to be out of that freakin desert. I got sand in so many places it'll take months to clean it all off." He walked up to the door at the head of the room that lead to the next area.

"There should be a communicator in the control room. We send a signal to those douchebags on Helios, time a shuttle down as the train comes to it's next stop. We hop on the shuttle, get home, strangle the morons that pronounced us dead, airlock half the board, Jack eats steak and hibernates for a week. Sound like a plan, Rhysie?"

"Sounds like a good one to me." Rhys laughed, finding himself in a much lighter mood than he's been in for the past couple days. This was it; their ticket home. In hopefully less than a day he'll be showered and snuggled in his bed. It was practically in arms reach. He never thought a simple shower would sound so tantalizing.

"I could just taste that steak now. Mooing on my freakin plate. Poor some gravy on that bitch. God, I can't wait!" Jack chuckled, and Rhys smiled knowing that was the most genuine laugh he'd heard from the man in a while. "How about you, cupcake?"

"Hm? Oh, obviously my bed, binge on EchoFlix for a few days..." of all the things Rhys could do once he got home, one thought popped into his head, one that paused him in mid sentence. Last night. What would come out of that? Would they resume their Boss and Assistant routine, as if fucking in some dank cave never happened?

Jack hadn't mentioned one thing about what they did, no filthy joke, antagonizing jab, nothing. What nerved Rhys the most about the man's behavior was the clear lack of acknowledgement of their sex, their hot, random, dirty sex. It was weird, it was needy, but it was so good. But Jack had yet to say anything about it, if he liked it, hated it, he couldn't make heads or tails with Jack acting so...nonchalant.

A thought in the back of his head rose to sit on his tongue, a newfound yearn to say what was on his mind. His hand left the leather seat to rub anxiously at the back of his neck and watched Jack open the door and peer inside the next room.

"Hey Jack..." damn, he couldn't stop himself. But he had to know. If Jack wasn't going to say anything, then Rhys would, as much discomfort as it gave him. His courage stemmed from his high hopes of getting home soon. He swallowed down the fluttery feeling crawling up his chest and into his throat.

"Yeah, pumpkin?" Jack answered, still scoping the next room with his gun raised cautiously.

"I was, I mean I wanted to...ah" _C'mon, Rhys, just spit it out. Don't puke_.

"What was that, princess?" Jack turned with a raised brow, and Rhys swallowed again.

"I mean, this is random and all, but..." he chuckled nervously, "I was thinking, about when we get back to Helios, and last night, and...where we stand with, ya know, what happened, uh, between us...."

"Where we stand?" Usually when asked that question it was self explanatory, but Jack had a nasty knack of pointing out a simple statement or question for more elaboration. Whether it was genuine or not, he was never prepared to have to explain it.

Rhys blinked, his chest tightening. "Yeah, the uh, the sex. And after." Ugh, when he made it sound like that, it sounded uncomfortable, and it made him almost forget what he was asking.

Jack sighed, closed his eyes, and scratched his head with the end of his gun. The fluttering in Rhys' chest dropped to his stomach like a brick. He knew that look, and right now he wished he could have just punched himself in the mouth.

"Yeah.... Listen, kiddo," and here it comes. Rhys flinched slightly and braced for it. _'_ _Stupid_ , he thought to himself, _you should have just puked.'_  


"Let me just say, first off, you were great. Like, one of the best I've had. But you're also my PA, kiddo." Jack took a step toward Rhys, and it made the younger man almost want to step back. "And I'm not all entirely sure of what those bandits were drinking, but that shit was strong enough to make me forget that little tidbit. You following me, Rhysie?"

Rhys winced at Jack's voice, the softness in the last few words. He'd rather the loud, angry booming, or the antagonistic laugh any day over this.

"Yeah," Rhys replied, shrugging and pretended like the weight in his gut wasn't there. "I totally get you."

  
_Shit_. Jack must have picked up on the falter in Rhys' tone, for he let out another long sigh and walked forward until he was standing directly in front of Rhys, strangely bigger than normal. Probably because he felt three inches tall in front of the older man.

He felt a firm hand on his shoulder, squeezing slightly. Rhys kept his stare down, biting the inside of his cheek in growing embarrassment.

"Rhysie, you're a good kid. One of the best PA's I've had in a while. I made the right decision by appointing you that position when you got me back to Hyperion." He paused. "Look at me, pumpkin."

Damn that tone. _Don't feel bad for me, you asshole_. Rhys raised his head to meet Jack's eyes.

"This is gonna sound dickish, cupcake, but last night was more about the frustration and crazy Pandoran alcohol. When we get back, this" he waved his other hand between them, "won't be continuing. For the good of the company. You understand?"

Rhys couldn't argue that what Jack just said was extremely dickish, and he bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep from saying anything he really shouldn't. After all those moments; the heated stares during meetings, the whispered innuendos, all meant nothing for the past six months. The days spent listening to Jack's AI whispering hopes and dreams into his head, promises for him on a job well done, that he was _so proud of his baby boy._ Did they ever mean anything? 

And the sex, the touches, the words they exchanged, was all to quell the man's pent up frustration and alcohol mudded mind?

So he'd been used. Great. Like he should really be surprised. When Handsome Jack wanted something, whether sober or not, angry or happy, he got what he wanted. And Rhys, as usual, was left with nothing but the clean up.

He really fell for it this time.

Rhys suddenly let out a sharp laugh, surprising both men. He tried his hardest to make it sound genuine. "I get it, Jack. You don't have to explain." He took a step back and slid out of the other man's grip on his shoulder. "I completely agree with you. Last night? Psh, never happened, right?"

Jack squinted his eyes, giving Rhys a cautious look. "Kiddo..."

"Right." Rhys smiled, inwardly pleading with Jack to just nod and forget this whole conversation. "Well, I'm glad we got that out of the way," he turned away from Jack's scrutiny, "I'm gonna...go check out the back of the train, just to make sure everything's good."

" _Okay_ ," Jack acknowledged, a bit warily. "You wanna take one of my guns?"

  
_I'd probably slap you with it._ "Nope, I'm good thanks. I'll meet you in the control room."

Jack was right, there was no arguing with his point. Jack was his boss, and as his Personal Advisor it was his responsibility to keep Jack in line, ensuring his decisions were planned and acted out accordingly to his wishes, to assist the man with his schedule, providing helpful information in favor of executive decisions. Not fucking the man while stuck in the middle of nowhere, emotions high and alcohol a dirty variable.

But the pain in his chest argued differently. The rejection still hurt, despite how appropriate the decision was. And it frustrated him that his emotions couldn't agree with the decision made.

The door separating this room to the next one suddenly slid open, which was weird considering Rhys hadn't made it to the handle yet. He glanced up, and met two angry brown eyes and the mouth of a long barreled pistol.

For a moment no one said anything, Rhys staring at the new presence staring back just as quietly.

He inhaled deeply, and it was possibly the longest breath Rhys had ever taken. He instantly became aware of the sheathed sword dangling to his waist. Would he have time to reach for it, to unsheathe it and defend himself?

He answered his own question, as when his fingers twitched for the sword the man in front of him cocked his gun and aimed it at Rhys's forehead.

"Sorry, kid."

"RHYS! DOWN!"

Rhys was too petrified to move, but he knees gave way when Jack's hand grabbed the back of the leather jacket around the young man and hoisted him down. Something whizzed past his head, and he felt a burn in his shoulder instantly. He was pulled behind two of the leather seats, an onslaught of bullets meant for him shredded through the fabric and sent stuffing flying everywhere.

His heart was pounding, air rushing in and out of his lungs with each frantic breath. His hand scrambled to his shoulder, trembling fingers feeling over the ripped leather and hissed when he touched heated flesh.

Jack reached over the seat and fired off two shots before dropping back down. He quickly turned to Rhys and grabbed his shoulder. "Lemme see." He barked, and slapped away Rhys's hand to inspect for himself. Rhys watched the man's face, eyes wild and lips pulled in a snarl. When he saw Rhys' shoulder the rage on his features seemed to falter somewhat.

"You're fine. Just a flesh wound. Bullet zipped right by you."

Rhys nodded hastily, barely listening through the gunfire.

"Boys!" The man shouted, "I got two over here! One looks Hyperion, the other...." Just as the man turned and aimed, Jack was already over the top of the seat, finger on the trigger.

"Holy shit it's Handsome--" the sound of a gunshot cut the man off, followed by a haunting splatter.

"Stupid bastard." Jack hissed. They could hear shouts farther down the train. Damn, there were more of them, and coming fast.

Rhys had finally controlled his breathing, but panic still surged through him. Shit, this was bad. Judging by the many voices, there must have been a large group of bandits on this train. With only him and Jack and who knew how many of them, things were turning grim.

And they were stuck on a moving train.

"Dammit...like sitting ducks." Jack growled, and instantly his eyes lit up and glanced above Rhys to the ceiling of the train.

"The turrets." Jack mumbled to himself loud enough for Rhys to hear.

"Jack...?"

"Rhys, get to the control room. We can trigger the security system. I had turrets built into the walls. If we can activate them then we won't have to worry about these scum suckers."

"You had turrets built in to the walls? In the passenger bays?!"

Jack rolled his eyes. "I was drunk when I designed this damn thing, remember? I don't know, it sounded cool at the time."

A random gunshot ricochet off the wall of the train close by their heads, and both men ducked.

"Okay, I'm down." Rhys quickly decided. "How do I go about triggering the security?"

"You're gonna have to hack the CPU, Rhysie. Get in there and override some of the energy conservation--"

"You want me to hack the train?" Rhys sputtered incredulously. Okay, yeah, he had no problem hacking systems he was vaguely familiar with. From an Atlas base to top secret Hyperion databases and everything in between, with a little sweat it was no big hassle. But there was one significant difference between all those times and now.

"Jack...I-I can't, not without my echo..." was Jack insane, or did he forget that one important factor? His arm, his eye, his port, nothing was working. Without his echo implants, there was no way he could break into the train's database.

"You don't need it, kitten." Strong fingers gripped his jaw tightly and forced him to look into Jack's eyes. They were wild, glowing, intense. "You're a smart kid, Rhys. I know you can hack that shit no problem," Jack leaned in and took Rhys' breath away when he smirked, "so if you prove me wrong, kiddo, I'll shove my foot so far up your ass you'll be choking on my shoelaces."

If Jack's hand wasn't clutching his jaw Rhys was sure his mouth would drop. Jack believed in him. Handsome Jack had just admitted he had faith in him, trusted him.

It lit fire in his body, every inch of him burned and he returned Jack's smirk with a confident one of this own and nodded.

Jack huffed approvingly. He moved his hand from Rhys' jaw to cup his face. "That's my boy." Their moment was cut short by a screaming psycho barreling through the door waving a hacksaw above his head.

"TEAR THE FLESH, RIDE THE CORPSE LIKE A PONY--!!"

A bullet to the neck shut that shit up.

"Get going, kiddo!" Jack hopped over the seats and stood with shoulders set. In one fluid motion he held Nisha in one hand and Lucy in the other, a grin splitting his face with the promise of mass murder. He stalked toward the door, not before being halted by Rhys' alarmed shout.

"What are you doing?" He realized as soon as he said it when Jack gave him a look he'd only seen very few times, the horrifying telltale sign that Jack had just done something truly gruesome or had every intention of.

"No, Jack."

"Aw, is Rhysie worried about ol Jack? Don't be, pumpkin, just get your ass moving. I'll meet you up there once I get a chance. I'll give you the signal to set off the turrets."

"It's too reckless. You'll get yourself killed!"

"If you don't get to that fucking control room, dumbass, we'll _both_ be dead!" A slew of gunshots rang out when the bandits began flooding into the next room. Rhys looked to Jack, then at the bandits, and back to Jack.

"Don't die, asshole."

"Ditto, sweetcheeks."

And with that, Rhys bolted down the isle, sprinting out of the oncoming commotion to the front of the train. He turned back only once, watching Jack stand just outside the door duel wielding two pistols and aimed at the ready as bandits ran toward him.

"Come on, boys! You want some'a Handsome Jack?!"

That was last thing Rhys heard before a symphony of gunshots drowned his ears.

When he reached the first door he swung it open and threw himself through in in one motion, running as fast as his legs could take him down the isle to the next door. They must have been closer to the control room than he thought, because after a few rooms he came to a door littered with obvious warning signs and specifications of what was in the room, aside from the giant red LED Main Control Room glowing bright above the door.

It took him no time to get through the door, using his metal arm to pry the heavy door open despite the pain in his ribs. He'd worry about the affects later.

Once he able to get in he stopped at the entrance, taking in the scenery around him. There were monitors everywhere, all filled with specific status readings. Multiple keyboards and labeled buttons were scattered about, a few very important looking levers in random spots. The area was small, could probably fit four people snuggly. Just above the screens and buttons was a wide rectangular window. In the dead of night Rhys was unable to see anything other than what the headlights could offer; tracks moving under the train so fast they were a blur.

"Wow." Rhys mumbled. The sight was overwhelming, and he began to panic. Where did he begin? There were so many screens, all telling him something different. This was where his echoeye would come in handy, and damn if he didn't wish for his tech to be working at this very moment. It would take twice as long to hack. Did he have that long? Shit. What if Jack made one wrong move and that was it?

"Dammit, dammit!" Rhys shouted. Frustrated tears gathered at the corners of his eyes. Nothing mattered now, Jack's something-of-a rejection, his dehydration, the pain in his ribs. He could care less about any of that. Jack needed him, had put his faith in him that they were going to get out of this alive.

He wiped the tears off on the leather sleeve and straightened up.

He would get them out of here.

 

 

 

 

 

It had taken a total of fifteen minutes. Too long for his liking, but he was already so close, he had just gotten through the last security wall, which was by far the most difficult one he'd come across. Rhys kept his eyes trained on the monitor with full concentration. His fingers danced over the keyboards. He had finally managed through the security walls to enable the turrets.

Of course, like in every important life or die scenario, he had to wait for something to warm up.

And so far he was at 7%.

The sounds of gunshots were hard to ignore, and would distract him every so often. They had lessened somewhat over the last five minutes, and Rhys found that alarming because he still hadn't heard from Jack. A few times he wanted to abandon his post, to run and help him, to see if he was still fighting. He knew Jack would be undeniably pissed if he did, and knowing that kept him where he was.

_He's alive, you idiot. He's fine. It's Handsome Jack, he's not gonna let a bunch of bandits take him down._

It was like a mantra to try and sooth his anxiety and dread, and for the most part it worked.

_He's let that happen already._

"Shut up." Rhys growled to himself. The turrets were now at 24%. _C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!_  


"Rhys!" came the familiar shout from outside the door. Rhys gasped, relief flooding every inch of his body. Thank God that big idiot was okay.

"In here!" He shouted back.

Jack wasn't too far, judging by the distance of his voice outside the door. 29%. He heard a thud against the metal, assuming Jack had thrown himself into it and began prying it open.

He had managed to get the door a foot open and shouted inside. "Jesus Christ, kiddo, what the hell's taking so--!" And suddenly Jack wasn't there. Rhys whirled back around and stared. "Jack?" He called out nervously.

35%.

"Jack?"

The door swung open in a blur, and Jack, literally, came flying in. Rhys moved out of the way in time for the bigger man to miss him, landing against the computer monitors and window with his back and the force of the impact ripped a pained shout from his lips. When he landed he caught himself with shaky legs, slumped back against the monitor behind him.

"Fuck! Jack! What the hell happened?" When Rhys tried to rush to him, he was stopped when Jack held a hand up for him to stop.

"Don't," he coughed, "get any closer, kiddo."

"What, why?" The younger man glanced back to the screen. 47%.

Jack used the monitor behind him for leverage to stand up, grunting a curse under his breath and arched his back. Rhys winced for him.

"I may have," he coughed again, "...may have pissed off a Goliath."

"A _what_?"

No sooner had he asked Rhys saw a large blur burst in, a gigantic arm the width of two of Rhys' thighs shooting past him, a massive hand wrapping around Jack's throat and shoving him back up the glass. Jack let out a sputtered gasp, hands shooting up to the large fingers tightening around his neck. Rhys let out a surprised shout and watched the monster of a man struggle against the small entrance of the room, _getting stuck_ in the frame of the door.

He'd heard about these guys. Bits and pieces from some of the boasting soldiers on Hyperion that had survived from a squadron going up against these beasts. He'd been taught the slang term for these...men-not-men from Sasha and Fiona.

They were Goliaths. They were human, but not human. Whatever they were, they were gigantic.

And this guy was a Badass Goliath.

He saw the large metal shield over the man's head, knowing from the stories as something one doesn't normally get too close to knock off and come back unscathed.

And this guy was currently strangling the life out of Jack.

"Jack!" The scream left his mouth before he realized it, desperate to say fuck the loading the screen and get to Jack. But the Goliath acted like Rhys didn't even exist, it's attention solely on the man he was clenching in his huge hand. Compared to him Rhys knew he couldn't stand a chance. It would take all of his strength just to pry off a few fingers.

"I'LL TEAR INTO YOU LIKE HONEY HAM!"  His voice was just as massive as it's stature, loud and thundering in the small control room.

Jack squirmed in the giant man's grip, clawing and beating at the giant fingers. The Goliath didn't even flinch.

82%.

"Jesus, Jack! Please, where the hell are your guns!?" Rhys was desperate at this point. If he could grab just one gun, he could do something, anything, _fuck_ , the cut circulation was starting to show red on Jack's face even through the mask.

"No..." he could hear Jack wheeze, "Rhys, the...turrets."

He wanted to scream at Jack, to shout and curse and ask why he was insisting on those damn turrets when he was currently dying. But all he could do was glance back at the screen. 90%.

It wasn't fast enough. In the ten percent he had left, it would be too late.

His eyes glanced around the room frantically, searching for anything, any fucking thing he could use to get the beast off of him. _Think, Rhys, think dammit!_ He looked down and paused immediately.

The sword still clinging to his side.

He could use it. Hell, it was no gun but it was the only thing he had.

"POP YOUR HEAD LIKE A CHERRY!!" The Badass Goliath roared.

"Rrgh...like you...have popped...any cherries...in your life, pal. Nngh!" Jack managed to gurgle out.

Because right now was totally the best fucking time to spend your last breath insulting a twelve foot tall, six hundred pound man who was currently crushing your windpipe.

93%.

Jack's fist began to slow to sluggish halfhearted swings, finally falling limp at his sides, eyes rolling up in the back of his head.

Rhys lunged, surging forward, hand going to the sword and yanking it out of it's sheath. His eyes were wild, his hands were trembling so bad he had to hold the sword with two hands to steady himself. He raised the sword above his head, and brought it down hard with an angry scream.

Warm blood splattered his face. The Badass Goliath let out a shrill scream and withdrew his arm, bringing back a bloody stub where his forearm would have been. Blood sprayed in all directions when the Goliath flailed his arm wildly, his scream drowning out the frantic beating of Rhys' heart. Jack sunk to the floor lifelessly, the severed arm still locked around his neck. He groaned once before a fit of hoarse coughs racked his body. Sluggishly he reached up and yanked the hand from around his throat and tossed it to the side, kicking it farther away from him with his foot.

Rhys glanced quickly to the monitor.

100%. ACTIVATE TURRETS. He threw his hand onto the activation button. The train hummed with the extra power flowing through it. He could hear the turrets coming from the walls, ammunition loading and aiming on their targets. He wasn't sure what had caused him to run forward then, but without thinking he charged the screaming Goliath and rammed his full weight into the large body, and the force combined with the flailing caused the large man to stumble out of the room and into the line of oncoming fire, the door sliding shut between them and the giant man getting torn apart by the rain of bullets.

Black spots in Rhys's vision shortened his victory, a pain like no other burned through the adrenaline in his veins and straight into his ribs. He screamed through clenched teeth and dropped to his knees, panting and cursing through the agony. No, he had no time for this. He had to get up, get to Jack, send a transmission to Helios and get them home.

He glanced over, and immediately met large blue and green eyes. Jack had been staring at him, a hand rubbing at the swollen purple and red skin of his neck. Rhys had never seen such a shocked expression on his face before, especially directed at him.

"Holy shit, Rhys...."

" _Unauthorized Conductor_."

The mechanical noise behind them meant nothing good, especially when dealing with Hyperion security. Both men turned and met eyes with a small turret aimed right at them.

" _Unauthorized Conductor. Please state Hyperion ID Code_."

"You gotta be fucking kidding me." Jack groaned hoarsely.

" _ID Code was not found. Initiating Bandit Elimination Sequence_."

Rhys turned to Jack, eyes wide and panicked. Jack lunged for him, putting a hand on his back and forcing him flat against the ground, his other hand producing a gun from his ankle holster.

"Wh-What are you...?"

"Stay down, kitten."

A single shot rang out through the small room.

_A single shot..._

"JACK!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise to update as soon as I can! Again, thank you all so much for your appreciation!
> 
> Until next time!


	7. Live, Laugh, Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I didn't think I would have time to get this chapter out for a while, but with all the amazing comments on the last chapter, I was freakin touched! I'd never been so excited to check my emails and see all the nice things you guys had to say. Every time a new one would pop up and I would read it, it would make my day :D Seriously, thank you guys! As a token of my appreciation, please see chapter 6 part two, because it seemed more like a continuation than a stand alone chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for harsh language, angsty bits, and steamy water smut :)

 

_A single shot...._

  
"JACK!"

With his face flat against the metal floor Rhys couldn't see anything, could hear nothing but the background noises of the beeping monitors and turrets outside. He squirmed against the heavier weight keeping him down.

There was no movement. Were they too late? Was Jack unable to pull the trigger first?

_No...._

_"JACK!"_

"Shut up, dumbass. You're screaming in my ear." The scratchy growl in his ear seized his heart. The weight suddenly lifted off of him and Rhys sat up immediately. He must have looked the other man over a dozen times before glancing back to see the little turret ignite in sparks and smoke.

Rhys looked to Jack as if lost. "I...sorry, I thought you had been..."

Through the blood splatters and bruises, Jack managed to smirk at him. "Gonna take a lot more than that, kiddo." He leaned forward and grabbed the back of Rhys' head the flat of his palm and gripped his scalp with spread fingers.

"By the way, babe. That shit back there with the Goliath? Fucking hottest thing I've ever seen you do." And in one go he smashed their lips together, melting down the scenery around them. Rhys stared wide-eyed, not sure what to do but lean forward, feeling his bottom lip bruise with the intensity of the kiss.

_"When we get back, this...won't be continuing."_

_Damn you, Jack._

And damn himself for returning the kiss with a gusto, practically leaning into the man's chest. They broke apart shortly after, leaving Rhys dazed and staring ahead thoughtlessly. Jack glanced to the smoking turret and back to Rhys. "We need to get off this train, kiddo."

That seemed to snap the younger man out of his hypnosis instantly. " _What_? After all this...why?!"

Jack winced and rubbed his throat, a new pain seeming to surface. "Backup turrets. Just realized. Sequence two."

Rhys just stared. Wow.

"Seriously?"

Jack growled and it came out like a rough hiss. "I know, I know. No more drunk trains. Lesson learned, happy now?" Rhys opened his mouth to let out an angry opinion when the humming started back up signaling the next attack. Jack shot up immediately and dragged Rhys up by his arm. He moved them to the corner of the room, pointed his gun and shot up at the ceiling. Rhys squinted up and realized there was a small square hatch, an emergency exit. The lock shattered to pieces and the hatch door flew open with the force of the point blank shot. Jack threw Rhys forward to the iron latter bolted to the wall. The younger man looked back, still in utter disbelief that they were actually abandoning the train.

"What about the signal to Helios?"

"No use. I can't take on multiple turrets, and it's not worth your life."

Did he just...? However great the hero Jack was proclaimed to be, there was also talk about his sacrifices. How many would fall so the Hyperion CEO could have what he wanted? His own daughter, some believed. His finest allies, said others. When Jack truly wanted something it gave him tunnel vision, would blur out everything else until he achieved it, and at the very end would turn around to realize the destruction caused by it.

So why would this very man just throw a chance back to Helios away for the sake of Rhys' safety?

"Don't just stare, moron, get up there!" Jack barked and winced. He'd have to get use to not shouting like an idiot for a while. But Rhys didn't argue and instead lifted himself up the latter through the square opening.

Only to get blasted in the face by chilly gusts of night air.

Holy shit this was the roof.

"I'm not going up here."

"You will or I'll shoot you in your ass!" Before Rhys could retort Jack planted his hand on Rhys ass and shoved him upward, throwing the poor young advisor up over the hatch in a flail of arms and legs. Rhys shrieked when he felt himself land on the cold metal exterior. His arms and legs locked and he clung to the metal ground like a leech.

"I'm gonna puke!"

"Better than lead in the ass." Jack came up next out of the hatch, hopping to a crouch to gain his footing. The wind was harsh and fast, whipping at Rhys' dry skin like sharp needles.

Somehow it was easier to handle then he expected, swallowing down the lurch of nausea he raised himself on trembling legs. Around them was pitch-black, save for the moon's light allowing the shadows of mountains speeding past them. Rhys looked to the other side and gasped when he saw the tracks ahead leading them over a long bridge at an upcoming bend in their course.

They were headed over a vast lake.

Where would they go now? Would they ride on top of the train out until the next time it stopped? Whenever that was. Rhys looked behind him to see Jack searching his pockets for more bullets.

"What now?"

"Not sure, gimme a sec--shit." Blue and green eyes stared behind Rhys, large and angry.

A piercing shriek broke through the wind behind Rhys and into his ears. He swiveled around and to his dismay was welcomed to the sight of hastily approaching psychos, three of them at least. One psycho was far ahead of the rest and too close for comfort, his arms flying wildly around him and a strange looking vest buckled around his torso.

"Freakin relentless." Jack groaned, cursing when he still couldn't locate the rest of his ammo. Rhys noticed this and straightened himself. He stood in front of Jack, metal hand gripping the handle of his sword and popped the sword out with his thumb. His eyes narrowed in on the psycho.

"I'll get him." He began to move forward and unsheathed his sword.

"What? No, wait a minute, pumpkin--"

It was too late. Rhys waited until the crazed Pandoran was close enough to him before charging him, ignoring the tremble in his knees and lump in his throat. He set his stance with one leg out and readied his posture. Under any normal circumstance he would have never thrown himself to act so boldly and without thought, but he'd been doing that a lot more lately, allowing a swell of newfound courage to take over and control him. It was foreign, exhilarating, empowering. He hadn't felt such a rush in so long, not since the last time he was on Pandora, when Vaughn, Sasha, Fiona...when it came to their lives hanging in the balance.

Once the psycho was close enough, nearly on him, Rhys swung. It was a clear path up the crazed man's chest, ripping through the vest.

But something was off.

The sword stopped midway through. A bright burst of electric blue came shooting from the vest in a blinding light, streaks of blue crawling up over both Rhys and the psycho's body.

"BURRN!" The psycho shrieked in agony.

Like a fruit being squeezed, all the air expelled from Rhys's lungs instantly, a fire like no other crawling up his numb limbs, boiling his insides with a heat the young man had never experienced before. He couldn't move as the burning current shook his entire body. His ears, his nose, eyes, all felt like they were going to explode, and he let out a scream.

The light faded, and he was no longer on firm ground. Rushing wind replaced metal beneath his feet, and all he could was watch as the distance between him and the train grew farther apart.

Nothing made sense through the fire that scorched his insides, his lungs burning for air but not functioning to inhale.

_What...went wrong...?_

He couldn't see out of his left eye, the real one struggling to blink away the black seeping into the corners of his vision. He could see the train leaving him, the psycho's lifeless corpse rolling off the side, but he paused when he saw Jack. The man was staring at him, mouth open like he was screaming, one arm extended out in vain to reach him.

_Too far...away, Jack_.

The nothingness in his eyes had finally spread over his eye, pulling him into silent darkness.

 

 

 

  
_"Oh my God, Bro. You just..."_

  
_"I-I know...and you too...."_

  
_The paper in his hands shook, eyes scanning over the words he'd already read. He couldn't believe it. After all the all-nighters, caffeine overloads, meltdowns, they had finally gotten what they worked so hard for._

  
_Oddly strong arms wrapped around his torso and pulled him into a painful hug._

  
_"We are OFFICIALLY Hyperion Interns!" Vaughn shouted joyously, shaking Rhys around as he jumped up and down._

  
_"You are freakishly strong, you know that?" Rhys wheezed, but grinned and returned the hug despite it._

  
_"Haha, sorry! I just...YES! We made it, bro! We made it!"_

  
_"We sure as hell did, Vaughn." He laughed, and looked back to the paper with an immense swell of pride. Nothing in his nineteen years had been more exciting then this moment._

_The background of the approval letter showed a picture of a grinning man wearing a mask with arms stretched out welcomingly._

_'Hyperion. Where Your Future Awaits!'_

_"You promise?"_

  
_The hiccupped sob tore at Rhys' heart. He hated when women cried. He hated when she cried._

  
_"Of course," he replied softly. He reached out a comforting hand, but it was harshly slapped away._

  
_"Don't you dare fucking lie to me." She seethed._

  
_"Sasha..."_

  
_"Don't. You think it's easy, what you're trying to do? What you're trying to promise me?"_

  
_"I never said it was easy..."_

  
_"I lived on that shit planet. I know, you don't. And these delusional dreams you have? To better that world? How can you sit there and say shit like that...like you really believe it will happen...."_

  
_"Because it will." Rhys moved forward and grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to look at him, to show him the tears that fell down her face. Sasha never cried, she was always so damn strong._

  
_"Will you trust me?"_

  
_"Why should I? You say these things, that you'll better this world. That you're my friend. But you chose_ him _."_

  
_Rhys remained quiet. He glanced down at the hands on her shoulders, how they trembled. Always trembling._

  
_"That's not going to stop me." He finally spoke, jaw set tight. Sasha blinked up at him, looking directly into his eyes. Rhys continued, "It'll work. There will be a better future for you, for Fiona, for August, for your future children, for everyone on Pandora. I made this decision for more than just the luxury of it, Sasha. Give me some freaking credit here."_

_They stared at one another for a while, both taking in those words. Sasha finally gave in with a tired laugh, closing her eyes and leaned in to hug Rhys's tall frame, wrapping her small arms around his back loosely._

  
_"Fine, Rhys.... I'll accept that. Just promise me that you won't die. Okay, moron?"_

_Rhys breathed out a laugh, finding no harshness behind his friend's words._

_"I won't."_

_Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzttttttttt...."Rhyszzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzza...zzzzzzzzzzzlovely name."_

  
_"All thiszzzzzzzzzzzzztime..."zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz"finally....signal...."_

  
_"Rhys..."_

  
_Zzzzzzzzzzz"lovely name....".zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz._

  
_"Rhys...!"_

  
_"Izzzzzzzzzzcan't wait...zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzto meet you."_

  
"God dammit, Rhys!"

  
The repeated beating on his chest finally forced him to consciousness. A large knot of something surged up his throat and threw him into a fit of gurgled coughs. The pain. His lungs were still on fire. Whatever it was in his throat needed to get out.

Something grabbed him and turned him over on his side. Before Rhys could even so much as moan his mouth filled with liquid, and in one lurch he coughed it up onto the dirt below him. The tired, strained muscles of his back heaved with every wet hack. Air, he sucked it in hungrily. He was starting to feel again, every sensation flooding back into his body. His skin tingled, but he was so cold. And wet...why was he wet?

Droplets of water splashed from his wet bangs to trail down his face. It felt pleasant compared to how hot his face was. He raised a weak hand to wipe the water away and found that he couldn't balance on one hand when a tremor seized his arm at the elbow and caused it to buckle. Wet cloth stuck to his skin rendering his movements.

Another surge of liquid filled his mouth and he hunched over again, heaving until the contents spilled out onto the ground beneath him. He whimpered and gagged. It hurt, everything hurt. Why didn't he understand?

In a moment of disorientation he began to tremble. Where was he? His eyes burned. Why couldn't he see anything?

"Rhysie...baby, look at me." Cold hands grabbed him by his shoulders and shifted him into a sitting position, and Rhys frantically swiped at them, fighting to get them off. It must have been the voice in his head, the gentle hum that cooed his name.

"N-No...s-stop." Rhys whimpered through quivering lips. The hands remained on his shoulders with a force he found he was too exhausted to fight off.

"Dammit, I said look at me." Strong fingers left his shoulders to grab each side of his head, thumbs rubbing against his cheeks in a soothing manner. "Open your eyes, sweetheart. It's okay."

Oh. He didn't realize his eyes were closed. He blinked slowly, peeling them open through the ache in his lids; a strange sensation he'd never had to go through before. Though heavily squinted he could see the milky streaks of stars above him, the light from Elpis shining down on him. A blurry face came into view next, one blue eye and one green eye pierced through his darkness, staring directly into his brown and blue ones, dilated pupils roaming over his face. He knew those eyes, that voice. It was all coming back to him.

"J-Jack." Rhys whispered through his panting.

"Shh, baby boy. I'm here. You're fine, okay? You're fine." His tone was panicked, or as close to it as Rhys had ever heard the man sound. That wasn't good.

"J-Jack...I--"

"Just breath deep. In and out. Just like that." Rhys raised his hands to grab at the older man, clutching his biceps and feeling nothing but cold wet cloth stuck to his arms. Why was Jack wet too? His eyes finally adjusted to the darkness, allowing him to see more of his surroundings. Jack leaned away to give him more room to adjust, falling back on his bottom in front of his advisor, bringing one knee up to rest his arm on and brought a weary hand to his face.

This didn't make any sense. The last thing he remembered was Sasha crying, no....it was Vaughn laughing. He shook his head. No, those were just dreams, or memories, or whatever. He was on the top of the train, that's right. The Hyperion Transit, running toward a psycho. He was going to attack the man with his sword, and then....

"W-What happened...?" He whispered, staring blankly at Jack, who remained sitting, holding his head in his hands with spread fingers shielding his eyes. The larger man's chest heaved in and out slowly, perhaps trying to calm himself down. He took notice of how his clothing stuck to his skin, his always styled hair now slicked back and clinging to his head. The man was soaking wet from head to toe. Strange.

Finally, after a moment of silence, Jack spoke exasperatedly. "You got fucking electrocuted, you _fucking_ idiot."

Oh. Rhys's eyes glanced behind Jack to stare a the glistening body of water in front of him. They were at the edge of a lake. He raised his head and peered up to see a long bridge held together by large metal beams.

Okay, so now it was starting to make sense.

"E-Electrocuted? How did I....?"

"You didn't fucking listen to me. Instead, you charged that psycho like a moron." He moved his hands to shoot a pissed of look directly at the younger man. "Did you even see what was strapped to that bastard? A fucking elemental vest."

So that's what that was.

Rhys stared at his hands laid in his lap, fingers fumbling with each other nervously as he listened to everything Jack was spitting at him. So he was electrocuted and was thrown off the train into the lake below. Sounded right. But what didn't make sense was that if he had been through something that should have killed him, and although everything hurt like a right bitch, parts of his skin still burned and his muscles screamed like they never had before, he strangely didn't feel all that mangled--

A glimmer to the side of him caught his eye then, and he looked down. An empty syringe? It looked kind of like....

"W-Where'd you get a h-healing hypo?"

"Snatched it from the train. Does it fucking matter?"

When Jack said one too many fucks, it definitely meant the man was pissed beyond belief. But after what they had just been through, he would respect the man's anger and stay quiet. He didn't mean to enrage him, hell he didn't mean for any of this to happen. But because of him they were now miles away from the train, from the closest chance they had to get home. Of course Jack would consider that, and would blame him. A cough rattled his chest, and he placed his hand on his chest until the burning in his lungs subsided. He must have taken in a lot of water, something he'd never hear himself say before this.

At least he wasn't dehydrated anymore.

Random, but that small thought tickled him. He'd spent the past day so dry his tongue was starting to turn into jerky, and now he had coughed up enough water to fill a plastic bag. The irony of it all made him giggle quietly to himself. And when the giggles turned to chuckles, he wasn't quite sure what he was laughing at anymore.

Rhys laughed, and kept laughing. He gripped his hurting sides and let himself fall softly to the ground on his back, rubbing his flesh palm into his eye to stifle the gathering tears. His actions earned him an incredulous stare.

"Why are you laughing?" Jack hissed between gritted teeth.

"I...haha, I don't know." Rhys ignored Jack's snarl and continued laughing, "I guess it's because I'm alive?" Jack didn't reply, instead he just kept his eyes hard at the younger man sprawled on the dirt floor. Rhys simmered back down to giggles, smiling despite the ache in his face.

"Sometimes, Jack...that's all you can do. I mean, after all that? I just...it's amazing." His gazed up at the stars above him, wet, cold, achy, but he was alive and watching as the stars and planets above shined brightly in mass clusters across the black sky. To be able to cherish something so small when he'd taken so much for granted, it felt refreshing.

"Tch, you're only alive because one of us had to act with some freakin sense!" Jack shot up on his feet, hand running his wet locks back furiously. Rhys frowned, raising himself on his elbows to get a better look at the CEO.

"I know, and I'm sorry, Jack. Thank you--"

"Seriously. Laughing like an idiot after being pumped full of, what, like ten thousand volts of electricity? Un _freakin_ believable."

Jack's temper had just leveled up to cutting you off. Rhys sighed and tried once more to speak to him.

"Look, I know what I did was thoughtless, but...he was charging at us. You weren't finished loading your gun, he could have--"

"That's no fucking excuse, you dipshit!" Jack roared, eye twitching from the pain in his throat or from sheer rage, Rhys wasn't sure, but he snapped his mouth shut. Jack was pacing now, just fueling himself up at this point. "I swear the current must have fried your stupid little brain."

It wasn't the rudest thing Jack had ever spouted out of anger towards him, but it definitely wasn't what he needed right now. He never argued with Jack during one of his tangents, but he'd had well over enough. He'd apologized, tried to thank the man, but he didn't deserve this after all the shit they just went through.

Willing his strength, Rhys made to stand. He stumbled once, but picked himself back up, ignoring his screaming muscles. He could feel Jack's eyes on him, watching him, but he could care less and walked steadily passed the older man as if he wasn't there.

"Where the hell are you going?" Jack demanded. Rhys rolled his eyes.

"Gonna bathe, I'm filthy." He snapped back, unable to hide the tremble in his voice.

"You technically already did."

"No," he turned back to give Jack a pissed glare of his own, "I drowned. _Now_ I'm going to bathe."

After only a short distance Rhys reached the edge of the lake, just before the water came up to the inclined shore and suctioned back into itself, and stared at the rippling water that stretched out as far as his eyes could see, wedged between two steep cliffs with walls on either side. It was a narrow body of water, but the largest Rhys had ever seen. To be honest, the largest amount of water he'd ever seen was the extravagant indoor pool inside of Helios in the aptly-named Hyperion Getaway section while on a mini vacation.

Compared to the simulated sun and blue sky, the planted palm trees, and treated water, this was nothing like it. And Rhys almost preferred it, watching as Elpis' reflection shined large and bright into the rippling water, the stars and moon alike giving an ethereal glow to the lake and not from any toxic waste or radiation. If that'd been the case, then Rhys would have most definitely been poisoned with radiation or currently sprouting tentacles out of his body, and since none of that had happened yet, he'd safely rule that out.

Just at the water's edge, Rhys crouched down and put his flesh hand in the water, humming when the water was actually warmer than the night air. He cupped a bit into his palm and splashed it onto his face, letting out a deep satisfied breath through his nose. He repeated the action, but instead began to drink the water. Ah, it was amazing on his dry throat, he could have moaned.

Rhys wiped his mouth once he was done and stepped back to undress. Kicking his shoes off he placed them a safe distance away from the water's edge. Next came the heavy leather jacket, button-up, then his slacks, boxers, and finally he began unhinging his robotic arm from his shoulder socket, wincing when he felt a sharp pang of tingling pain ripple through his shoulder. It had definitely been a while since he'd taken his arm off.

The night air was cold and it prickled his damp skin with gooseflesh. He hurried to the water, appreciating the warmer temperature and arched his body in a well-deserved stretch as he stepped deeper and deeper into the water's depths until he was at waist high water.

"Oooh my God," Rhys couldn't help but moan, letting the water splash against his skin, rubbing his hand up his bare chest allowing the small streams of water trail down his body and back to the water. Yeah, this was Heaven. He dipped his head back, letting the cool water seep through his brown locks to soak his scalp and ran his fingers through to wash off the dirt and grime.

It all felt so good, he couldn't even remember why he had been angry in the first place.

Oh, right. Jack.

Rhys glanced back toward the shore, squinting to the darkness trying to catch a glimpse of the older man. Seeing no one he shrugged and went back to running the water down his neck to cascade down his collarbone. Perhaps the older man took off for a while, maybe for a walk to calm himself down. Psh, yeah, he's probably just brooding or taking his anger out on a large rock again. Whatever the man was doing, Rhys would let him be for now.

A far off splashing sounded in Rhys' ears, of something else occupying the lake with him. He quickly turned every direction to find the source of the splashing. Oh God, were there some type of weird alien snake things in the water? Was he disturbing a species home with his naked body? He sincerely hoped not; he wasn't ready to be attacked by alien monsters while naked and completely vulnerable.

His eyes finally caught sight of someone approaching him, but it was too dark to see who it was. Panic seized his chest; was it one of the bandits that had jumped off the train, tracking him down to finish the job? Rhys sunk lower into the water and readied himself.

Elpis's glow shined down on the figure approaching, moonlight casting down on bare, muscular flesh, beads of water glistening upon tan skin. Rhys' breath caught in his throat, heart stopping for an entirely other reason than fear.

It was Jack, stark naked in hip deep water, exposing his finely sculpted pelvic line and everything above; thin but very toned waist, water droplets gleaming upon every groove of the man's muscled torso, broad shoulders and chiseled biceps...biceps strong enough to hold someone up while he....

Rhys shook his head; no, don't think about it, don't think about....

Jack raised one hand out of the water to smooth it through his already sopping wet hair, combing it back with his fingers as the water traveled down his arm and onto his chest, trailing down, down.... the younger man ripped his eyes away to look at Jack's face, sucking in a breath when he met hard eyes, dark and unwavering, boring into him with all the intensity of a lion who'd just caught their lamb.

Holy shit.

Rhys gulped. God, his face was on fire. Thankfully it was too dark to see the blood rushing to his cheeks, and, well, other places too. He remained submerged to his neck in the water, all of a sudden feeling very squeamish.

"Jack...what are you doing?" Rhys spoke cautiously, still scrutinizing the way Jack looked at him with that ridiculously heated stare. The CEO didn't answer him and continued to stride through the water towards him, his movements causing small waves in the current that rocked against Rhys' smaller frame.

They were only feet away from each other with Jack now waist deep and he stopped just short of the younger man, silently staring down and watching him closely. He looked...almost lost for a second, like he wasn't sure what to do next. Rhys noticed this, narrowing his eyebrows and tilting his head at Jack questioningly.

"Are...are you alright?" Momentarily forgetting how much of a dickbag Jack had been to him earlier, he was now more concerned at the man's actions. Had something happened to him?

With one large stride Jack closed the distance between them with a surge of current splashing between the two men. Wet fingers caught Rhys chin and tugged until he stood up straight, raising him out of the water until he was now at full height, eyes level with Jacks. It was so damn hard to look away, he almost didn't want to. Behind that hard stare, there was contemplation, apprehension, something raw beneath it all swirling in those heterochromatic eyes. He suddenly wanted to know why, to unleash the restraints.

Jack blinked, pupils trailing down Rhys's bare pale chest to his hips and back up to his face. Rhys squirmed under the scrutiny, curling in on himself to hide away from Jack's gaze.

"Stop, Rhys."

His tone was husky, deep, and too restrained for someone like Jack.

"Jack...what's wrong with yo--" Rhys broke his question off with a squeak when Jack wrapped a strong arm around his waist and pulled him against his bare chest, the fingers under his chin moved to the back of his neck and pushed him forward until their lips met.

What the hell...?

The kiss was hungry, dominating. Rhys froze in place, letting Jack's lips move over his own, wanting more of Rhys. He wanted to kiss back, God did he want to, but he was too shocked to do anything than just feel Jack's hot skin against his own, feeling the bare flesh of his chest pressed against his, it felt so good. Jack was clothed when they had slept together in the cave, and he didn't have full access at the older man's body, couldn't grab and feel the way he truly wanted to. But now, it was all he could think about.

Jack's tongue pushed passed his teeth to brush against his own tongue, curling around it, pulling a mewl from Rhys' throat. His arm bashfully grasped Jack's shoulders, wanting to pull him closer, chose instead to pull away from the kiss leaving both men panting.

"J-Jack...what the hell...?" Rhys gasped. At first it looked like Jack was going to lean in and continue the kiss, but was surprised when the older man moved in to press his forehead against Rhys'. Jack was so close now, breathing in and out of his nose that puffed hot against Rhys' cheek, keeping his eyes scrunched close and out of the auburn haired man's stare, like he was struggling with himself.

"You weren't breathing, Rhys." Jack hissed. The strong grip around Rhys' hip tightened, as if Rhys wanted to pull away. He didn't.

Rhys's eyes widened. "What?"

He heard Jack exhale harshly out of his nose then. "When I pulled you out of the water..." he snarled, fighting whatever it was Rhys couldn't see, "...no pulse. You just...laid there. You had..." Jack pulled Rhys to him impossibly closer, chest heaving with each labored breath. And Rhys watched, waited, too shocked to do anything else but listened to the choppy confession.

"You died on me, Rhysie..." the words rumbled in the bigger chest, and the younger man could feel it. Realization flooded Rhys like the water around them. So that's what set Jack off in such a rage; it was because of him? The murderous, megalomaniac and Hero of Hyperion, the Handsome Jack, was exposing colors of himself he'd only shown very few people in his life. And Rhys was now one of them.

"Jack..." the words stopped in his throat. What could he say to that? He was the soul cause of this man nearly losing what little composure he had left. All those times the CEO had scolded him for acting without thinking, for not being cautious enough. Perhaps it wasn't to antagonize the poor young man and throw his incapability's in his face. Maybe...it was out of fear of losing him for good. Not everyone was as lucky as Jack to be brought back to life after death, and maybe he knew that too.

"God dammit, Rhys..." Jack groaned tiredly, "seeing your face so, so pale, I didn't think I'd ever see your goofy ass smile again, and...I don't fucking know, but I lost it."  
Rhys couldn't help it, but he smiled softly despite Jack's words, knowing the man wouldn't see the smile with his eyes shut tight. He wrapped his arm around Jack's neck, careful of the deep purple bruises, and nudged him close until their noses touched.

"Jack...don't think about it. I'm alive, see? I'm fine." He traced his hands along Jack's strong jaw, brushing over the latch of his mask near his ear. Jack opened his eyes to look at Rhys, eyes just as intense as before.

"I know, cupcake. I know. Just let me..." Jack leaned in again and captured Rhys's lips in another fiery kiss, and Rhys gladly let him take what he wanted.

Things turned heated then. Fingers ghosted over wet skin, digging, grabbing, tugging. It was desperate, it was hungry, but neither stopped. Jack roamed his hands down Rhys's spine, and the young advisor gasped and arched into Jack's larger body. The hands continued until they latched under Rhys' ass, lifting the man up effortlessly and allowed long legs to wrap around his hips under the water.

Rhys whimpered when he felt Jack's erection dig into his inner thigh and rubbed his leg into the hard cock earning him a muffled groan against his lips. He could feel his own ignored cock twitch, caught between his belly and the muscle of Jack's pelvis. Subconsciously he moved his hips against Jack and moaned.

Jack's fingers massaged over Rhys's ass, kneading the soft flesh, thighs held over Jack's forearms as he held him close. He trailed hot steaming kisses from the corner of the young man's mouth and along his jaw. He lapped over the tattoo on Rhys' neck, tasting the freshly washed skin and brought his teeth down to ghost along the cold flesh.

"Ahn... _J-Jack_." Rhys cried out, digging his fingers in the muscle of Jack's back between his shoulder blades. His hips sped up their grinding until he was outright humping the older man. When he felt teeth sink into the spot between his neck and shoulder he let out a sharp cry and nuzzled his face into Jack's neck.

"Heh, easy, pumpkin." Jack breathed deep, sucking on the flesh he'd bitten into, holding the small lithe body as it squirmed in his arms. Rhys moaned in Jack's ear, heavy and thick with lust. "You're so much lighter without your arm, sweetheart." Jack laughed breathlessly, adjusting Rhys in his hold so he was holding the man with one arm. "Makes it _real_ easy to do this." He wrapped a strong hand around Rhys' cock, stroking it under the water with ease. He smirked and watched as Rhys's eyes lit up and his mouth opened in a silent scream, the only sound coming out was a quiet wheeze.

"Hah.... _nnngh_ ," His words melted on his tongue. The water around them splashed wildly, small waves knocking against their bodies with the grinding of their hips. Rhys' long legs tightened around Jack's hips and ground Jack's cock into his thigh again.

" _Fuck_ , baby boy...you don't know what you do to me." Jack pulled in the younger man's bottom lip between his teeth and nibbled, inviting yet another fierce kiss between the two. A distraction. Rhys hadn't noticed Jack's finger inching toward his tight hole until he felt one thick finger insert itself in, and it caused a rippling effect up Rhys' spine going straight to the blush on his face.

Jack's eyes lit up at the sound Rhys made, loving the way he threw his back to cry at the sky above him.

"Ah...Jack, _mmn_."

"Mmm, Rhysie...you're so fuckin gorgeous, pumpkin." Another finger slipped into Rhys, and Jack chuckled when he felt his lithe advisor buck into his fingers. "That's right, baby. Just slide back on em, juuust like that. Damn."

This wasn't like the first time, by far. There was something feral about Jack in the way he would hold Rhys; crushed up against the man feeling every bit of skin he could, biting and sucking on the flesh of his neck, hungry for him, possessive.

And Rhys loved it.

The hand stroking his cock had yet to pause, and when Jack massaged his thumb on the tip of his dick it made Rhys bite his already bruising lip to keep from shouting. He was getting so close; between the fingers in his ass and the way Jack was stroking him, he didn't think he had the composure to keep going.

"J-Jack," he whimpered despite himself, "I...I'm gonna cum..."

"Mm, is that a promise, baby?" Jack smirked back at him. God, it had to have been the hottest smirk in the universe, and the subtle act drove Rhys over the edge, in a moment of mind bending ecstasy Rhy bit down on Jack's shoulder with a muffled scream and arched up into him, releasing all over himself in the water between them. With Jack supporting his full weight he shoved his hand between them to wrap his own long fingers around the hard thick girth of Jack's dick, pumping him hard and fast. He wanted to Jack to come now, he wanted to hear him.

And Rhys got what he wanted. Jack's back began to spasm, hips jerking wildly into the other man's hand. "Nnngh! Sh-shit, Rhysie. Ah, _fuck_." There it was, that throaty growl of primal need, just what he wanted to rip out of the bigger man. His head sunk to Rhys's shoulder, mouth open and panting hot breaths against his bare skin.

"God...uh, kitten, you...you're driving me insane." Jack's hips bucked with wild abandonment, covering Rhys' shoulder in sloppy kisses as he came with a deep throated growl, cum shooting into the water in milky streams.

The symphony of their labored breathing was the only thing Rhys could hear for a while as his senses came back to him, as did the sudden resurfacing of old aches and pains. He would have to add a few more to that list after this. His legs were still wrapped around Jack's torso but as his body relaxed the grip on his hipbones began to slacken. He readied to slip off the man and braced for shaking legs, but before he could Jack shifted him in his arms to tuck him back up and around him, keeping him tightly wound around him. It was a strange act of affection coming from Jack, but Rhys didn't mind it in the least.

"Wow...oh my God, Rhys." An attempted laugh from the CEO came out more like an exhausted sigh. Rhys tilted his head forward to rest his face against the older man's temple, unable to stop the wide smile that graced his features.

"Mmm, Jack...thank you." Rhys whispered with a sleep ridden slur.

A pause, then Jack replied just as slurred, "For what, kitten?"

Rhys closed his eyes. "For worrying about me." He felt the deep rumble from the bigger body holding him as Jack chuckled.

"You're thanking me for that? Heh, you're something else, kid." There was a pause as Jack turned his head and stretched his jaw with what looked to be a very satisfying yawn.  
"By the way, kiddo, I hate to be that guy, but we're gonna need to get out of this water soon, cuz ol' Jack's gonna shrivel up like a raisin if we don't. Not a pretty sight, trust me."

Rhys couldn't help but let out a soft, genuine laugh, earning a joined chuckle from Jack too as they both stood there in the lake, for the first time not caring about anything around them and momentarily forgetting the harshness of Pandora around them.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to get better at smut scenes, I promise! 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. All reviews are welcome! Thank you again and until next time!


	8. Emerald In The Rough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm at a loss for words at how wonderful you all are. JK! I have TONS of words for you guys! 
> 
> First off, thank you so much for your inspirational words, that my ideas have sparked such interest in my viewers, and that I have such amazing viewers at that. You guys keep the flame lit I should say, and with every comment I gotta say I get so excited over each and every comment. It's truly a pleasure knowing my story is liked!
> 
> Second, a special shout out to Asphyxiate-My-Soul on Tumbler, who's sketch of Jack & Rhys vs. the Goliath in chapter 6.1 made me foam at the mouth with joy! Thank you again so very much for the awesome picture! Please go check her out when you can, her artwork is amazing!! :)
> 
> So here's to you all, and I hope you enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this was suppose to be A LOT longer, but I had to chop this in half. Sooo~ I went ahead and threw a little of everything in this one for you, because after this chapter things are going to get CRAZY!
> 
> Rhys can be such a big fluffball, and Jack can be such a big jerk.
> 
> Enjoy!!

If there was one thing Rhys had learned about the desert nights of Pandora, it was that the coldest time of the night was in the earliest hours of morning; where a dim hue of blue painted the Eastern sky's, melting in the middle with the dark sky of the West. The sun rose in the East on Pandora, he had realized for the first time ever. Good to know.

  
In these quiet hours he found it was hard to sleep, what with damp clothes and a small pitifully built fire made from whatever both men could scrounge for that could burn. It had been a miracle just to start the flame. Grinding rocks together for a spark had proven utterly tedious, much harder than it seemed on shows and movies. It was an hour and two Jack tantrums before they had succeeded.

  
But the fire was too small, and his clothes were still damp from his fall into the lake even as they were hung over the dead branches of an old tree they had taken up camp next to, resting along the uproots next to the stump to get away from the brisk chill of the winds that swept through the mountains around them. The cold leather jacket wrapped around Rhys only added to the cold that trembled his bones, the boxers he wore in modesty clung to his thighs, his lack of body warmth giving no aid to dry them.

  
So finally, after a paranoid thought about the chances of hypothermia, Rhys finally addressed his concern to Jack, who's situation wasn't so far from his own; clad in nothing but wet jeans, he seemed to be minding the temperature better than the younger man, save the occasional outbreak of goosebumps on the exposed tan flesh of his bare torso.

  
The same bare torso that was now pressed up against his pale and blue-tatted one, a sheen of sweat and creating a delicious source of heat. Calloused fingers ran over Rhys's scalp, biceps on either side of his head caging him in. Hot breaths panted along his neck drew out a very pressing need in Rhys that made him yearn for more of it, the hot wet lips on his skin driving him crazy.

  
_"Aahn...Jack."_ Rhys practically sobbed between wild thrusts. Thighs clamped around sharp hips rubbed to create a friction that warmed his legs ever so wonderfully.

  
"Ungh, yeah. That feel good, baby?" Oh, Rhys almost rolled his eyes when the gust of hot breath danced along his ear. Even Jack's hushed growl was warm like rich honey, but as rough as the tree root digging into his side.

  
"Y-Yes, oh God, yes." Rhys moaned, back arching into Jack at one particular thrust. Jack was so hot, literally, blazing like a furnace. And Rhys begged for it more than he did for the man's cock pumping into him, filling him full of pleasure, but more deliciously, heat.

  
"Yeah, baby. Let Daddy warm you up." Jack ran his tongue up the shell of Rhys' ear, a trail of fire that made the younger man cry out.

  
With every perfectly angled thrust it seemed as if Jack was adding more and more heat inside of him, the friction like an electrical charge, hitting his prostate again, and _again_ , and...

  
Rhys could only take so much before it drew him over the edge, his body now on fire, and he came shouting into Jack's mouth, eyes scrunched shut when all he could do was just _feel_ ; the way Jack's large hand came up to cup his face, like a warm cloth wrapping around one side of his face, the way the furnace of a man's cock stretched him so wonderfully, twitching with the promise of filling the younger man with his hot seed.

  
It took no time for Jack reach his climax then, breaking the sloppy kiss to arch his back up, attention now at the bluing sky with a strained howl, his thrusts hard and untimed and lost in the throws of his own orgasm. Through a clouded mind Rhys could have sworn steam was coming off the older man's broad shoulders.

  
Jack dipped his head down to rest on Rhys' collarbone, burying his nose in the junction between his shoulder and neck to catch his breath. Fingers held the smaller man beneath him, firm and protective until he could gather himself, which was quicker than Rhys expected when he felt a familiar smirk on his neck.

  
"See, kitten? Told ya I'd warm you up."

  
And Rhys couldn't help but let out an exasperated laugh at the man's words and leaned his head back against the bark with an arm thrown over his eyes.

  
"Shut up and help me clean up, Jack."

 

 

  
One little cloud, aimlessly floating amidst the massive blue sky, it's only companion the large blazing inferno of the Sun.

  
Rhys watched the little white fluff's journey across the sky behind the shade of his hand, moving at a pace not generous enough for the auburn haired man; so slow...too slow. He gulped, swallowing nothing down his dry throat.

  
"C'mon, little guy. Just a bit more...." All he wanted was a small moment of relief from the Sun's blaring heat, was that so much to ask? And the only answer to his silent plea was a tiny little puffball moving agonizingly slow towards the Sun. At least it was _something_.

  
To his utter dismay, the cloud changed direction at the last second just short of giving Rhys the few measly moments of relief he wanted, as if to taunt him, it's course now travelling underneath the Sun in it's own rebellious venture.

"Argh, you kidding me?" Rhys growled and slumped his shoulders in defeat and frustration. Stupid cloud. Stupid Sun. Stupid desert. He lowered his head to search his area in every direction, finding nothing but the stretch of sand, rocks, and rocky hills scattered about. And one very dead and rotting electric cactus.

  
Rhys' stomach gurgled in despair, reminding him of the very reason he was stuck out here by himself. He wrapped a hand over his stomach in an attempt to quell it's agitation, as if to stop it from potentially cannibalizing itself from the overwhelming need for food. Few times he had considered just giving up and heading back to camp; to think he had insisted to be the one to track down food, he could have punched himself. What the hell was he thinking searching the seering hot desert for food with nothing but a sword?

  
_"Okay, Rambo. You think you got this survival thing down? How's about you go out there a bring back some food if you think your so tough?"_

  
Oh. Right. He'd gotten a tad big of himself and challenged Jack, which thinking back on it was a horrible idea to challenge the most competitive man in the universe. But when Jack laughed in his face when he offered to find food and stated with a smug smirk that Princesses don't hunt, well...Rhys couldn't help himself.

  
_"Princess? I bet I could find food before you!"_

  
And he almost did, too. Shortly after Rhys had stomped off to prove himself he had found a lizard sunbathing on a rock. It was the perfect opportunity to show Jack he could take care of himself. All he had to do was snap the little guy's neck, stick him of a skewer and roast him. And when Jack would come back, defeated and hungry, Rhys could bask in his victory while munching on some delicious reptile.

  
He wasn't expecting, however, for the lizard to outwit him by moving away at the exact second Rhys landed his hand on the rock and instead of grabbing the small animal he was met with the obnoxious pain of his knuckle busting against the rock. And to only make matters worse, the lizard had taken advantage of Rhys's distracted state and jumped on him, taking him by surprise and sending the screaming man down to the ground hard on his ass. And finally, to his utter embarrassment, the lizard had hopped right back off of Rhys to scurry back into the safety of a small crevice in the rock.

  
The memory served to bitter Rhys' already sour mood. He was hungry, he was hot, and he had gotten whooped by an eight inch long reptile.

  
And so here he was, trekking out in the desert for the umpteenth hour with what was left of his already shriveled pride. He couldn't go back to camp empty handed. He wouldn't give Jack the luxury of endless boasting about how _little kittens aren't meant to hunt and blah, blah blah I'm Jack and I'm the biggest douche in the world._

  
"Ugh!" Rhys ran his metal hand through his hair, completely frazzled at this point. Stupid lizard. Stupid cloud. Stupid Jack. "Everything on Pandora _sucks_!"

  
Great. Instead of searching for food, he was throwing a huge tantrum. At least no one was around to see-

  
All at once his thoughts were abruptly drowned by a high pitched scream somewhere in the distance. Rhys flinched but froze immediately. His eyes went wide and alert as he observed his area cautiously. Save for the whistling sounds of gusty winds, the desert was quiet. Nothing moved, nothing changed.

  
_Did...that just happen?_ There was no way he could have fabricated that scream. He may have been hungry, but he knew delirium from starvation, a poor childhood definitely taught him a few things, and he was not at that stage just yet. So he waited, ears alert and eyes observant on his surroundings. Minutes flew by in stillness, and with each passing second Rhys began to drop his guard cautiously slow.

  
_Did you know the desert can sing?_

  
The auburn haired man shook the thought from his head frantically. Of all the things to come to mind now, Sasha's creepy little ghost story still irked him. How that girl could get under his skin at the most random moments he could only-

  
Rhys' body reacted to the second scream faster than he could realize what was happening, as it pierced the air; his shoulders hitched and with a loud gasp he stumbled back as if the sound had physically knocked him back. There was something terrifying about it, as it was more of a combination of two different kinds; one of horrifying rage, the other of nerve gripping fear, both high pitched and stinging the young man's ears. One considerably human, one obviously not.

  
Was someone in trouble?

  
At that notion, Rhys found himself bolting in the direction of the scream just over the rocky hills to his right. What was he doing? This wasn't like him to blindly run into the face of potential danger, but...he felt the surge of a newfound urge to act, something he would never had done before. Originally he'd run back to Jack, to tell him of the screaming and to urge him to assist with investigating, that as long as Jack was with him everything would be okay.

Yeah, that was the Rhys he thought he was, but that person felt so foreign now, so detached from the Rhys barreling towards predestined danger.

  
And strangely, he was okay with that.

  
Another eruption of screams quickened Rhys' pace until the only obstacle in his way was a steep hill of jarred rock. Acting without a second thought he began to quickly climb up the hill instead of running all the way around it, cutting time in half as it seemed precious now. When he reached the top of the hill he began to make his way down, but one simple slip of rock underneath his boot sent him in a flail of incoordination down the rocky incline. Hands scrambled for a jagged rock to catch himself, but it was too late as the speed in which he slipped dragged his body down the hill, small rocks tumbling with him.

  
He finally landed in a dusty heap of flailing limbs at the base of the hill, hard on his ass that left him groaning in pain. Disoriented, Rhys coughed the dust out of his lungs and stretched his back. Okay, so running in head first may not have been the best idea....

  
It wasn't until Rhys lolled his head to the side that he froze. At teen feet away he could feel the gusts of air from the wingspan of the frenetic swings of a Rakk clawing at the large rocks with fervor, completely ignoring the new presence close by. Supporting itself in the air with the strong thrusts of its wings, spindly tail jabbing it's boney point against the solid of the rock and chipping away bits and pieces. It was trying to get to something. Rhys scrunched his face when he realized that whatever the creature was determined for was in between two large rocks in a small crawl space. And still screaming.

  
It wasn't the most threatening Rakk Rhys had ever seen, it must have been the younger of it's species, but when watching them so high up in the sky they all seemed so small. And now so up-close as he was to the bat...bird...thing, he realized just how gross looking they really were.

  
Rhys shuffled to his feet quickly and approached the Rakk from the side, stopping to pick up a rock and tuck it into his robotic fist. He waved his arms and shouted at it trying to get it's attention. The Rakk didn't pay him any mind and continued to scratch at the rock and snap it's awkward mouth into the crevice.

  
"Hey!" Rhys barked and puffed his chest. "Don't ignore me, you sonofa--" His metal arm twitched, and oh to hell with it, he chunked it at the Rakk. It soared right into the Rakk's little body and knocked the creature off balance. With a cry it collapsed in a befuddled mess. For all that knew about Rakks, which wasn't very much, was that they were quick creatures that only fought using their flight as leverage and a long spindly tail they could use to quickly dive-and-stab their prey until it collapsed from it's injuries. They didn't seem like confrontational creatures, nor were they fit for hand-to-hand, er...hand-to-claw-thingy combat.

So when the little Rakk collected itself and stared straight at Rhys with a screechy growl, it became clear to Rhys that he had most definitely pissed it off.

  
Oh shit.

  
In a flurry of wings the Rakk rushed straight for Rhys, it's mouth open so wide he could see down the thing's throat. The young man yelped and, acting quickly, reached down for another rock, standing up just in time to see the Rakk had closed the distance between them too fast for comfort. Instinctively he swung the rock in his fist hitting just the right spot on the Rakk's skull, and didn't realize what he'd just done until a spray of blood splattered his face.

The creature's body dropped to the ground lifelessly in a small heap at Rhys' feet. The young man blinked a few times, hands extended out and frozen in place. "Ugh!" Rhys suddenly snapped out of his trance and convulsed in a fit of coughs and sputters. "Ew, ugh, oh God, it's in my mouth! It got in my mouth!" He dragged his tongue along his hand to rid the taste of Rakk blood. He heard a pitiful whimper come from the space in the rock and suddenly remembered what he was doing. Dropping the rock he ran over to the crawl space and knelt down, not knowing what he expected to see as he peered into the shaded hole.

  
What he _wasn't_ expecting to see was two very large and youthful eyes the color of pure emerald staring into his. They pierced the darkness of the crevice, catching Rhys' and causing the young man to gasp.

  
If his echo eye was working he'd be able to set the night vision setting and scan the small being, but with his organic vision he could only pick up on certain details. One; the formerly known creature was in fact a human child, a small human _girl_ to be exact, and two; she was wedged so far back into the space of the rock she had curled herself into a frightened little ball, arms and legs wrapped around herself in a weak attempt for comfort. But those eyes, the most striking ones he'd ever seen, seized his heart. Terror swirled in the depths of those green orbs, alight with absolute fear. Her panicked breathing reached his ears then, gasping as if she'd thrown herself into a panic attack.

Rhys could only blink back at the girl, suddenly having a million questions but none worth spouting out. Instead, he softened his face into a look of concern.

"Hey...i-it's okay. The Rakk's gone...see?" He waved a hand around to show the girl in emphasis. The child just stared at him in disbelief. He didn't blame her.

  
"You, ah..." Rhys felt his hand reach to rub the back of his neck nervously, but instead of reverting to his nervous reaction instead extended his hand out toward her. "you can come out now. It's okay."

  
He instantly wanted to smack himself for acting too haste with the child. When his arm reached out too fast it ripped a yelp from the girl, and she managed to scramble back impossibly farther into the back of the space. Eyes now wide and jaw trembling she watched the extended hand as if it would lash out, gaze following up his arm to flinch at certain parts of his person.

  
Rhys tilted his head in confusion. What was she looking at...?

  
The young brunette finally glanced down at himself, realizing the very bloodstained hand he had struck the Rakk with was currently offered to the frightened child, his face sticky from blood splatters, and he didn't miss the obvious attention she was giving to the sword snug at his waist.

  
_Ooh_. Quickly, Rhys began to rub the blood from his face and wiped away the blood from his hand on the back of his tarnished dress shirt. Finally he loosened the knot of the sword's fastener and leaned the weapon against the rock just outside the crevice. Looking back at her he held his hands up in peace and offered the child a goofy smile.

"Sorry about that, I didn't mean to scare you. See?" He raised his hands higher. "I'm not going to hurt you, I promise. I just want to see if you're okay." The girl stared back at him for a moment, and he could here her breathing steady somewhat. But despite his acts of peace the child was still skeptical.

  
"Believe me," Rhys let out a soft chuckle, "I tried to take on a lizard a few hours ago. Let's just say the little guy beat me up pretty good."

  
After a few steady blinks and a tiny gulp the small child seemed to have considered his embarrassing confession and very slowly she uncurled her limbs from around herself and maneuvered cautiously toward him. He watched her shakily crawl, and reached out his flesh hand to assist her. To Rhys' surprise, he felt the tiny calloused fingers grab his in her acceptance at his offer.

  
Her beautiful green eyes squinted when she finally emerged from the dark of the space and into the sunlight, and Rhys couldn't help but watch those magnificent orbs glow when the Sun's light shined in them. Now out of the darkness of her safety, Rhys was able to get a full look at her.

  
He couldn't really remember the last time he'd been around children, but if he could roughly guess he'd say the little girl was around nine years old. _So young, too young to be out here all by herself._

  
Adorned in a sleeveless raggedy brown dress -an oversized rag was more accurate, her caramel sun-kissed skin told Rhys she was no stranger to the desert life. Freckles dusted the bridge of her small button nose, her tinted cheeks, and her small boney shoulders. She was small, thin, her exposed arms and legs boney and lanky, but he could see no traces of malnourishment. Her chocolate brown shoulder length hair whipped around her face in all directions, wavy and kinky and dirty.

  
But what concerned him was that upon closer inspection he noticed the many scratches that adorned her scrawny limbs, and he winced when he saw her knobby little knees were skinned and splattered in small spots of dried blood. A surge of anger prickled his skin; he didn't need to ask what brought her all the way out here. She must have fought that Rakk for a good while, _all by herself_ , before she was able to find a suitable place to hide.

  
The thought of the small child fending off the creature boiled his blood. What he wouldn't give to bring that damn thing back to life and beat it some more....

  
Rhys shook his head to rid himself of his growing temper. He turned back to the small child and met her quiet stare with a softened gaze of his own. He reached out attentively to try and touch her arm, to inspect it further, but pulled back immediately when she leaned away from his hand and moved her arm behind her.

  
"S-sorry, I..." Rhys bit his lip. God, he was not good with these types of situations. "Um...does it hurt? The scratches, I mean...."

  
The child looked away as if in thought, then gave a slight shrug and a small nod.

  
Rhys nodded back, but said nothing. He glanced the area around them, taking in the vast nothing around them. Of _all_ the things to run into out here in the middle of nowhere, the _last_ thing he expected was this; a dirty roughed up little Pandoran child. Just his luck.... He was completely out of his element here. He was a corporate ladder climbing business man, he wasn't good with kids, he wasn't good with deserts. It took everything just to survive out here, and now he had stumbled onto yet another new obstacle to add to his already horrible disposition.

"Um...do you, ah, know where your parents are?"

  
Her only response was a quiet frown. Rhys picked up on it immediately. Okay, best not mention parents.

  
"Do you have anyone that cares for you?"

  
At that the child nodded.

  
"Do you know where they are?"

  
The little girl bit her lip in thought. She looked around, left to right, and finally raised a shy finger in one direction. Rhys followed the direction of her finger out to the wasteland, seeing absolutely nothing. Well, that was helpful....

Rhys straightened his back and heaved a troubled sigh from his lips. Oh boy, this was going to be tricky.

He felt a tug at his pant leg then, and looked down to the see the child looking up at him expectantly. He took to one knee down to her height until he met her eyes. Her mouth opened, then closed, then opened, and for a moment it seemed like she was going to say something.

  
A large shadow fell over them from behind Rhys, drawing the child's eyes up and over the brunette haired man. Any soft words Rhys expected to come from the child was exchanged with a sharp screech. Her timid little expression switched to one of complete and utter horror.

  
"Wh-What's wrong-"

  
The second screech came from _behind_ him, and he whipped his head around. The first thing he saw was an open mouth, wide and layered with so many small glistening teeth, a wild cockeyed stare, and a ridiculously massive wingspan.

  
As if Rakks could get any fucking _bigger_. And fucking _uglier_.

  
This one was absolutely monstrous.

  
"Oh my FUCK!" Rhys jumped to full height between the child and the monster. It's spiney tail was so much bigger, the point of it littered with boney thorns, so not only would it peirce through a ribcage but could latch onto it's prey and pull it toward it's unhinged mouth.

  
Rhys gulped. _Don't think about it. Do something...grab your sword._

  
Right, his sword! All he needed to do was...

  
_Shit_. He dared not take his eyes from the beast, but he didn't have to to know his sword was leaning against the rock too far for him to reach for it. It would be a gamble, and he couldn't risk moving and triggering a hostile response from the Rakk.

  
As if his point was well made, one simple shift of his leg caused the Rakk to rock it's body forward and open it's mouth again to let out another screech directly in Rhys' face. The gust of hot rancid breath blew his hair back, the smell going instantly churning his stomach. He broke out in a full-body tremble, mind racing as fast as his heart.

The beast jerked it's body forward and threw it's tail out. Rhys whipped his head to the right just as the barred point whizzed past and snapped at him like a crack of lightening. He could hear the tear of his shirt and shortly after he felt a burning sensation on his shoulder. Now that he was forced to move he suddenly considered flinging himself toward his sword. If he could just get to it, he'd be able to unsheathe it before the Rakk had time for it's next swing.

But if he did, that would give the creature a clear opening for the little girl, who's obvious fright had frozen her little body in place.

At that moment Rhys found himself with two options; save himself, or save the child.

So Rhys chose the only logical action.

In one swift act Rhys turned himself around on the balm of his foot and lunged for the girl, wrapping both arms around her tiny shivering form and enveloping her in his much larger body.

"Close your eyes," he whispered to her unable to stop the tremble in his voice, "it'll be okay, I promise." With that he closed his own eyes and readied himself for what he could only imagine would be an unbearably painful death.

It was kind of funny, that in these agonizingly slow seconds before imminent death that one would think about the people they loved most and the things he'd miss, like sharing a whole large meatlovers pizza with Vaughn, headshot competitions with Yvette on a first-person-shooter EchoBox 360 game, that he'd never be able to tell Fiona and Sasha of his survival out in Pandora, and...and that he'd never see Jack again....

The Rakk suddenly let out an indignant squawk, and Rhys was thrown from his reminiscent thoughts when he heard the little girl in his arms let out a loud gasp.

Why wasn't he dead yet? He opened his eyes to see the young Pandoran staring over his shoulder, eyes wide with such amazement that Rhys couldn't help but turn to look at what had caused such an odd expression from her.

"Eat this you ugly ass bitch."

He heard, more like felt, the cracks of gunfire before he had time to make sense of what he was seeing.

The Rakk's head was clean gone, whatever was left of it scattered about the dirt behind it. The body hit the ground with a loud thud and convulsed a few times before going completely still. In the midst of the blood and the dust and gunfire stood Jack, standing tall between the carcass and Rhys. Smoke simmered out of the barrel of the pistol tightly in his fist, the other hand perched on his hip.

  
"Never liked those damn winged-rats anyway." Jack snorted as he lowered the pistol and placed it back in the holster around his waist. He turned around and met Rhys' eyes with his own agitated ones, one eyebrow arched questionably at the younger man.

"Y'know something, kiddo? I'm beginning to think you are one _seriously_ bad luck charm. I mean, c'mon" he nodded his head to the dead Rakk, "the train, the Goliath. It must _really_ suck to be you, like, always."

Rhys blinked, utterly stupefied. "U-Um...."

"Oh, and for the record," Jack pointed one long finger at the carcass with a snap of his wrist, " _that_ , is my win. Told you kittens couldn't hunt."

  
Rhys blinked again, and then scrunched his face in disbelief. Seriously? To bring up that up now? "I, uh, I'm okay, thanks for asking."

  
"I didn't ask." _No shit_. "Piece of advise, babe; fetal position is not going to kill your prey any faster. Wait, scratch that, horrible advise. It will definitely kill _you_ faster. So yeah, kinda had this coming to you, dumdum."

  
"Wha? I wasn't...I wasn't _cowering_ if that's what you think! I was..." When Rhys had turned around to fully face Jack, the sudden change of expression on the older man's face told Rhys he didn't need to finish that sentence.

  
Silence had fallen over them, a kind of soundless moment that made Rhys fidget uneasily. Hard and narrowed heterochromic eyes stared at wide youthful emerald ones, both unblinking, observant, and Rhys caught in the middle to switch from the little Pandoran child to the Hyperion CEO. Her mouth was open slightly, body rigid, while Jack's lips formed a thin scowl, shoulder's tight.

Finally, Jack exhaled through his nostrils and tore his gaze to glare daggers at his young advisor.

  
"What the hell is _this_?"

  
"I-I...um..."

  
"T-t-t- _today_!"

  
"I found her! The Rakks, they were attacking her, so I...I don't know, I...."

  
"You what? Jumped on in the fray? Is that a new thing you're doing now? Just hurling yourself at shit? Jeezus, kiddo, do I have to put a freakin harness on you?"

  
Rhys could feel the muscle under his eye twitch. "If I hadn't, she would have been..." he stopped dead in his words and turned to the child, who's awestricken expression had yet to be torn away from Jack.

  
"Yeah, I get that. But there's more to the hero business than just throwing yourself into peril, idiot."

  
Rhys had opened his mouth to retort when he heard a soft whisper behind him.

  
" _Hero_..."

  
The way the girl had said it, like some unfathomable word on her lips, like she was trying it out with her own voice, made Rhys and Jack both watch her quietly. A breeze danced between the trio, the wind whipping through the child's kinky hair and out of her face, exposing the look of pure astoundment. She held her hands together and entwined her fingers, thumbs rubbing against each other anxiously. Her eyes sparkled like green gems, still not moving from Jack.

  
Jack noticed it. He twitched. "Why is she staring at me? Hey, you slow-minded or something?"

  
" _Hey_!" Rhys turned on Jack, "don't say that to her, it's rude!"

  
But Jack ignored Rhys, and instead took one long step around the younger man to stand directly in front of the child, causing the little girl to crane her neck up to hold her stare. His massive body completely shadowed her, towering many feet above her tiny head. Rhys wasn't sure why he held his breath; it wasn't as if Jack was going to do anything to her...right? He had heard stories of the unspeakable things Jack did in the past when he first took rein of Hyperion, the town raids, the experimentation, mutilating one's family for the sake of interrogation, but those were years ago.

Since the first day Jack had been downloaded into his new body and reclaimed his thrown the man had yet to carry out of the malicious threats he promised to unleash upon Helios and Pandora.

  
Six months had blown by and with it did the anticipation of Jack's vengeful plans fade to nothing but empty words. Hyperion needed new reform and reconstruction, absorbing all of the CEO's time in returning order to Helios. Sure blood had been spilt after Jack returned, demotion in the form of air locking and strangulation, but surprisingly never around Rhys.

But here, right now, would Jack hurt this little girl? Was he still the monster he was before?

Jack suddenly leaned at the waist and over the young desert dweller. He hovered one hand in front of her face and waved.

  
"Hey brat, you in there?" He snapped his fingers. "Staring at the sun too long fried your little brain, huh?"

"Cut it out! You don't have to be a jerk." Rhys sputtered, noticing the tension lift from his shoulders. The little girl blinked, expression suddenly alive and bright. A small huff left her lips and she closed her mouth to let a smile puff her young cheeks and slant her twinkling eyes.

  
Rhys couldn't believe it.

  
"You got her to smile."

  
"Nah, pretty sure she's about as sharp as a butter kn-"

  
Pudgy little fingers reached up on each side of Jack's face. It took a moment for what Rhys was seeing to really register in his mind, and when it did a rather unappealing choke bubbled up his throat. _No one_ , not even himself, would be so bold. And judging by the aghast expression on Jack's face, no one had ever dared tried.

  
Her fingertips poked and prodded over the metal clasps, the pads running over the small grooves just below Jack's temples. Her eyes scanned over the clasps that fastened his mask, the ones on each side of his face, his forehead, his chin, with all the wonder of a child her age. The older man went stock still, save for the twitch in his left brow.

Rhys nearly panicked when Jack's lip twitched into a snarl, letting out a low growl through gritted teeth.

  
_"What is she doing?"_

  
"I...I, uh, I don't know."

  
Jack ripped his face away from the girl's grasp and took a few quick steps back as if she had burned him. He glanced between her and Rhys, obviously wanting to explode but not knowing quite how or to who. The young brunette had to cover his mouth with his hands when a smirk threatened to give him away or direct Jack's temper his way.

Hm, maybe Rhys shouldn't feel so bad about the lizard owning him if a nine year old child could make _Handsome_ _Jack_ uncomfortable.

  
Just before Jack could gather himself, Rhys could have sworn he saw something flash across his eyes when he held his glance at the little girl for a second longer than he should have, something that he wasn't use to seeing on the CEO's face. As soon as it was there it was gone, and Jack turned on the balm of his heel to pace away.

  
"This is re _goddamn_ diculous...."

  
"Language." Rhys pointed out, which earned him a rather nasty sneer. Ignoring him, Rhys turned back to the little girl watching the pacing man curiously. She looked up at Rhys when she noticed he was watching her expectantly. He took that moment to crouch down to her height, or close to it as even on his knees he was still taller than her. He was glad to see she didn't shy away from him like last time. She was warming up to them, that was good.

"Don't mind him," he nodded back to Jack, "he's just an old grump." He grinned and she smiled back, and when they both heard Jack's indignant grunt in the distance he was pleased to see it spur a few hushed giggles.

  
"So...uh," Rhys ran his robotic fingers through the hair on the back of his head, "do you...do you have a name?"

  
The little girl nodded, however the question seemed to create a sort of distance between them. She shifted away and looked away, but he saw the small nod of her head. _Good going, Rhys. Make the poor girl uncomfortable._

"That's okay! You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." An idea suddenly popped into his head. "How about this; I tell you our names, and then you can decide if you want to give us yours." He gave her a bright smile. After some thoughtful consideration and a long stare, she finally nodded.

  
"Great!" Rhys pointed to himself and gave her a bright smile. "I'm Rh- _ow_!!" A strong hand clamped down on the back of his neck and hoisted him up to his feet. He squirmed against the painful grip but stopped when he was shoved back against Jack who leaned down to address the child with a cheeky smile.

  
"Please excuse us for a second, sweetheart. I need to chat with my dumpy little friend here."

  
"Dumpy?!"

  
He was drug some feet away until they were out of the girl's earshot. Jack let go of Rhys with a shove and got in his face, hands on his own hips and shoulders squared.

  
"The hell are you doing?" He hissed, as if the child could hear them from this distance.

  
"What do you mean?" Rhys hissed back, pouting at the agitating ache on the nape of his neck.

  
"Are you dense, kiddo? You can't go around telling people our names! She could go back to her scum sucking bandit family and tell him _Oh! Hey! Just thought you should know that Handsome Jack and his Personal Advisor just saved me from a Rakk. What's for dinner, Mom? Oh yeah, Handsome Jack's head on a FREAKIN platter!"_

  
"You are terrible at little girl impressions."

  
"That's not the _point_!" Jack growled, placing his palm to his forehead. "No one can _ever_ know we were out here. As far as that kid's concerned, we were nothing but hallucinations."

  
"C'mon Jack, she's just a child, and she needs to get home." Rhys reasoned. He could agree that this was definitely not in the schedule and would delay any plans to get back to Hyperion, which Jack decided after the train incident that time was of the essence now more than ever. But the young man knew he would never be able to sleep another restful night knowing he had left a child out in the middle of the desert.

  
"We need to find her family." He quickly decided, and quickly winced when the look he was given felt like a slap.

"Ohoho, we? _We_ aren't doing anything, kitten. _I_ am grabbing that Rakk and heading back to camp. You are following me." Jack turned around and made for the dead animal's body. "Good plan? Great plan! Now tell your friend goodbye, and let's get-"

  
"No, Jack."

  
Those words stopped Jack in his tracks. The air grew still, quiet. Rhys could feel the tremble in his knees. _Oh God, I totally just said no to Jack_. When Jack turned around to face Rhys he could see the look of pure astoundment in his eyes, the _did you just say what I think you said?_ obviously a question he didn't need to ask aloud.

  
Knowing Jack and his history for getting what he wanted, always, he probably expected the next thing out of Rhys' mouth was an apology, or a babble of stutters. He would quickly make his way to the kid and with a small apology leave her there to follow his boss back to camp. They wouldn't speak of it, and Jack wouldn't bring it up no matter how much guilt he could see Rhys stack upon his shoulders, if he bothered to see it at all.

  
Not anymore.

  
Rhys stood his ground. "I'm not leaving that girl out here. I...I know it's going to delay us, but I couldn't bring myself to go home without finding hers first."

  
When Jack said nothing Rhys began to fidget. _Why isn't he answering me?_ He wasn't use to the quiet I'll-speak-with-my-eyes Jack, which was exactly what the older man was doing right now. And when he noticed something strange flicker in those intense eyes, something akin to...betrayal? It made Rhys _very_ nervous.

  
"What are you saying, Rhys?" His tone was dangerous, like walking on a plate of cracked glass.

  
It as almost frustrating. _Why do you have to be so dramatic?_

  
Rhys wasn't his Personal Advisor for nothing. At times he could pride himself on his ability to successfully reason with Jack. Now was one of those times he had to use his utilize his more stronger suits.

  
"I'm saying," Rhys started slow with a steady breath, "I will take her back to her family-"

  
"You'd risk our lives for that kid you've only met just now?" The way he said _our lives_. Explains the flicker of betrayal in his expression. Rhys didn't have to say it, and Jack would never admit to it, but their outlook was very grim. No food, no containers to store the water they found, limited ammo especially after the train, both men considerably bruised and wary, the last thing they needed was to get ambushed by a bandit clan who'd more than easily overlook the appreciation of the return of their missing pup to have a go at a vulnerable Handsome Jack.

"She shouldn't suffer because of the decisions we've made." That earned him a scowl. He continued, "I'll get her close enough without being spotted. I promise. Once I'm done I'll meet you back at camp."

It was a considerable amount of time before Jack acknowledged his words, closing his eyes and exhaling through his nostrils, lips tight and drawn into a thin line.

"Fine."

It was so sharp, quick, that Rhys almost didn't hear it. He blinked. "What?"

Jack threw his hands up. "Fine. Go on, Hero. Do what you want." He turned around and began walking away. Was he going back to camp? Was that it? He just agreed with him? No, it was too quick of a decision. He expected _at least_ another ten minutes of cursing and yelling before Rhys got the upper hand.

"Jack?" Rhys took a step forward, but the next words he heard from the older man stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Good luck. Next time a bullet flies by your head or a bandit mauls you, don't think I'll be saving your stupid ass."

Ah, so this must have been another level of Jack Tantrum; with Rhys as the variable he knew Jack wouldn't strike him, instead going for the _do what you want, but don't come crying back_ tactic. It only frustrated Rhys, to think the man could act so _childish_ sometimes...

"Fine!" Rhys barked back, unable to stop himself. "If that's how you want to be? I'm doing the right thing and you know it! And don't come back to me when...when...ugh!" It wasn't the best retort, but dammit Jack could really crawl under his skin sometimes and dissolve any intelligible comeback right out of him.

He heard Jack yell back a "whatevs" before huffing and turning the other direction to march back to where the little girl was, who had not left the spot she had been standing in and had apparently been watching them the entire time. Rhys took deep breaths to level himself, trying to wipe the scowl from his face and give the child a reassuring smile when he noticed she looked a little troubled, eyes switching back and forth from Rhys and Jack.

  
"Well," Rhys sighed, "looks like it's just you and me, huh?" His tone was light, hopeful.

  
"I'm Rhys." He offered her his real hand. She eyed the hand, then back up to his face. "And right now we need to get you home to your family. Would you mind if I made sure you got there safely?"

  
His heart melted when her eyes lit up instantly and she shook her head, immediately wrapping both her tiny hands around his, but decided to quickly swap for the metal hand when she knew she could tinker with his metal fingers. He couldn't help but laugh slightly at her sudden interest in his cybernetics.

  
Just before they started walking the little girl glanced back into the distance behind her, and Rhys followed her eyes out to the desert where they could see the retreating silhouette of Jack's shape. He frowned, but made sure she couldn't see it.

  
"Don't worry about him, he's just...shy?" _Yeah, let's go with that_. But to a little girl it seemed the easiest reason that would explain his actions. She nodded in quiet understanding and glanced back to the direction in front of them. Rhys' stare lingered a while longer at Jack's back, eyes softening when he couldn't tell if he was more angry or worried. Jack wouldn't stay angry at him for very long, would he? He'd be cooled down by the time Rhys made it back to camp for sure...right?

  
_If he's still there when I get back._

  
He immediately shook his head. Jack wouldn't leave him...he wouldn't.

  
Upon turning back around he spotted the dead Rakk's large form still lifeless in the dirt.

  
_I guess I wasn't the only one who lost their appetite._

"Harmony."

Rhys blanched, and looked immediately at the girl next to him. She was smiling up at him with a tiny finger pointed at her chest.

"What's that?"

She pointed to him. "Rhys." Then stuck a finger in her chest. "Harmony."

_Harmony. So that is her name._

  
Rhys smiled back down at her. "Very pretty name." He could feel her tiny hand squeeze his, and with his cybernetic hand he applied slight pressure in return, mindful of the strength behind his robotics.

  
"Let's get you home, Harmony."

 

 

 

  
It was amazing how one small child could go from an introverted mute to a ball of chatty hyperactivity in the span of an hour. Not that Rhys was complaining, it was actually enjoyable to have something take his mind off everything going on around him, even if it was stories about purple frogs and dancing mushrooms explained in half sentences with badly prounounced or made up words.

  
Despite that, he could probably say he knew more about this little girl in an hour than he knew about Jack in six months.

  
She was actually eight years old, she had told him. He was close enough. And that she lived with her "Baba" and that she and her Baba had been together since she was a baby, in a little hut just a few miles from a nowhere town in the middle of the desert. She knew how to cook certain types of meats and mushrooms, which was interesting enough to Rhys since he couldn't even cook instant noodles at his current age of twenty-six.

  
Harmony was also full of questions, like about his arm and his friends and where he was from and why his clothes were so weird and why his eyes were different colors and...well, just a lot of questions, and he had been able to answer them as best as he could so a child her age to could understand. He had fibbed a few of the answers, just in case her stories got back to the wrong people of course.

  
There was _one_ interesting question he had for the little girl.

  
"Hey, Harmony?" He spoke over her rambling, which she immediately stopped and looked up at him. She walked closely by his side, her hand still entwined in his metal one.

  
"What made you wander out so far on your own? It can be really scary out here, and you knew your Baba would worry." He expected a simple answer, like food, or that her imagination go the best of her, a question only an innocent child could answer.

  
He wasn't expecting her expression to grow suddenly very concentrated, her little eyebrows knitted together as she thought hard about his question, tongue poking out of her lips only slightly.

  
"I was looking for them."

  
Rhys tilted his head. "Looking for who?" Harmony lifted her head to meet his gaze.

  
"Them. They make the desert sing!"

  
_What did she just say?_ For a moment it felt like Rhys couldn't breath, his chest tightened so much so that even swallowing took more effort than normal. He kept his expression as casual as possible trying not to worry her even as her attention was now on something behind them.

  
"W-What," he cleared his throat, "I mean, who makes the desert sing?"

  
"Rhys, look!" She pointed behind her, tugging at his hand to stop him from walking.

  
"Harmony," Rhys couldn't help the anxiety in his voice, "who is 'them'? What makes the desert...?"

  
"Someone's out there!" She huddled closer to him and wrapped her arms around his leg, hiding her face behind his knee. Rhys looked up to find indeed a far off figure moving directly toward them. But from this distance he could only make out a single figure, or...was that two? He held his other hand up to his face to block the sun out, straining his eyes to see as far as possible.

  
They were just close enough for Rhys to realize who it was.

  
"It's J...!" He stopped himself quickly. _That was a close one_. The little girl realized just who he was talking about and her eyes lit up again. She moved from behind Rhys to watch the approaching figure.

  
They waited, and sure enough it was Jack, much to Rhys' surprise and relief, trudging his way through the desert to meet them, carrying behind him what appeared to be the large dead Rakk from earlier. Momentarily forgetting about Harmony's earlier comments, he decided this needed his full attention.

  
Did this mean Jack wasn't angry anymore? Or maybe that he could admit Rhys was doing the right thing...no, that was hoping for too much. Perhaps the big asshole considered separating was a very bad idea and decided to join them for now. Yeah, he'd go with that.

  
"Is he your Papa?"

  
He couldn't possibly answer that, because one he was currently choking on whatever saliva he had left, and two because even such an innocent question like that sounded so _wrong_.

  
"Wh...uh, n-no, oh God...uh, no, sweetheart, he's just...uh," dirty _dirty_ memories flooded his head. _Probably old enough to be....no, no don't think about it!_ His cheeks burned scarlet all the way to his ears and down his neck. Thankfully the tiny girl didn't notice nor understand. "He's uh, just my friend."

  
When Jack finally caught up to them he said nothing, giving the journey ahead of them his only attention. Okay, so he was still a little mad. Rhys could work with that.

  
"Hey. You changed your mi-"

  
"Shut up, and don't talk to me." He growled low and kept walking forward, dragging the lifeless animal behind him by one of it's wings. Okay, so he was more than a little mad. But he was here, and had not left him. He would prefer this than that any day.

  
"Ah, okay." Rhys rubbed the back of his head. Harmony looked excited, switching her eyes from one man to the other, but remained quiet.

  
"Okay. So let's get going, J..erh..."

  
"John."

  
Rhys blinked. John? Of any fake name to go by, John seemed a little...well, plain. But with Jack's temper at _dangerous_ he wouldn't question it.

  
"Okay...John."

  
The trio began their journey East, or in the direction the little girl tugged Rhys to. Jack slowly caught up to their pace, even walking ahead of them but not before passing Rhys and stepping close enough to hiss in his ear without Harmony noticing.

  
"I hope you know what you're doing, _kiddo_."

  
Rhys glanced his way but by that time Jack was already looking East and had stepped a few quick paces ahead of them. He looked at Jack, then down to Harmony pleasantly walking along with seemingly no care in the world, her earlier words still echoing in his head.

  
_I hope so too._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know what you're all thinking; finally, a hint at the freaking plot! Right? Well yes, so much more will be revealed from here on out. SOOO MUCH MORE ANGST AND ACTION TO COME!
> 
> Next chapter will be a heartgripper, guys. We'll also be seeing a little more into Jack's feelings as well!
> 
> Stay tuned, and once again thank you so much for reading! All comments welcomed!


	9. I Spy Desert Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As I was writing this chapter, I noticed that I was not even halfway through and realized I already had over 4K words. Crap! So I had to cut this chapter into a half too. So while I'm cookin up the next chapter, I'll just put this here and let it cool down. ;D
> 
> I SWEAR, things are going to get REALLY CRAZY SOON! And I know I've been telling you all that for a while now, but I swear! It's gonna happen!
> 
> So get ready for some feelz, and some mega plot building!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I will be going through all of my reviews and personally thanking each and every one of you for your amazing reviews on my story. Thanking you all in my notes just aren't doing it for me any more, I must let you all know how flipping awesome you are and how you make this so much more enjoyable for me to write!

“I spy…with my eye… _something_...blue.”

There was a pause, a moment of concentrated silence.

“Mm…sky!”

“Yes!” Rhys let out an exaggerated shout of joy, inclining his head up to meet a bright young smile above him. He squeezed the little ankles in his hands in congratulatory. Now perched upon his shoulders, Rhys could give the little girl props for trudging along as far as she did, what with short little legs having to take on the extra stride to keep up with him; it seemed every one step for Rhys was three hasty and borderline-frolics for Harmony.

Another string in the fate of being tall, he supposed.

“I got it right!” Harmony squealed.

“You sure did! Now how about this one.” She tensed and prepared herself for the next question, and it was simply one of _the most_ adorable things Rhys had ever seen; to get so serious about such a silly game.

“I spy…with my eye…something…green.”

He could practically hear the little gears churning in her head. Her eyes scanned the area around them with all the seriousness of a predatory bird, then down to Rhys. Her eyes roamed over him like a retina scanner, then turned back to look at her other much older companion walking quietly behind them.

Rhys couldn’t help but snicker. It would definitely take her a little while to—

“My eyes!”

Well damn. She got it.

“Woah, th-that’s right! Wow, Harmony, you’re really smart!” He could feel her practically preen at the compliment, little body squirming with joy at the praise. And Rhys was serious, that even though there were not many green objects around them, it had taken her no time to figure it out.

The sound of a soft snort from behind him caught his ear, obviously more to oneself than intentionally loud enough to hear. Whatever the case, Rhys fixed his gaze to the corner of his eyes with a twitch of irritation, peripheral catching the sight of his dramatic partner keeping his own comfortable distance from them.

“Okay, Harmony. I’ll give you an easy one.” As she readied for the next question, Rhys just couldn’t help himself.

“I spy with my eye something…grumpy. I’ll even throw in a hint; _old_ and grumpy.”

“Watch it, smartass.” On any other occasion Rhys would have booked it for the mountains at the deep throated growl from behind him, but hell, he was willing to risk fate in favor of a little antagonizing, and at the expense of a child’s laughter. Harmony had apparently thought it was the funniest thing in the world, for her little spasms and squeals of laughter made Rhys’ heart melt. At least someone was enjoying the man’s dour mood.

“C’mon, _John_ , it’s just a kid’s game. Have some fun with us.” Rhys looked up and winked at Harmony.

“My idea of fun, kiddos, would involve me blowing my brains out all over the dirt floor so I don’t have to listen to your stupid little game anymore.”

“Because that is _such_ an appropriate thing to say in front of a child.”

“Then maybe you should cover your ears next time, _Rhysie_.”

 _Asshole…_.

Above him, Harmony seemed caught in a fit of giggles at their banter.

“Don’t encourage him, Harmony. Nothing good ever comes from it.” Rhys sneered back at Jack.

They continued their journey in silence, save for the burning hot glare Rhys could feel boring into the back of his head.

 

 

 

 

 

It had been a few more miles before Harmony had insecurely whispered into Rhys’ ear that they needed to stop. He’d been confused at first, thinking something was seriously wrong with her or the journey and had questioned the poor child until, with a pouty embarrassed puff of her pink cheeks, she was forced to blurt out the reason.

“Rhys, I have to _pee_!”

“Oh. Oh! Sorry! Here.” Rhys lifted the child from his shoulders to set her firmly on the ground. He helped her search the area around them until his eyes caught hold of a few large boulders not too far off, suitable for a private bathroom break. He looked back down at the girl and noticed her little dance to keep it in.

The urge must have been too much for her, as before he could utter a single word Harmony bolted as fast as her little legs could carry her off and around the boulders. It spurred a laugh from Rhys, watching the poor thing speed off. He took the time to stretch the kinks out in his back and rotate his shoulders, taking in the scenery around him with a content smile.

Until his eyes caught sight of Jack, who had also taken their small break as an opportunity to drop the dead Rakk he was carrying and stretch his back out, lifting one arm high in the air with the other reaching over his head to grip his bicep. The young man winced at some of the pops he could hear even from far off.

With Jack’s back to Rhys the younger man took the opportunity to watch the way the older man’s shoulder blades moved with the muscle, neck craning from side to side eliciting another melody of pops and cracks, all the while staring with apprehension at the thought of speaking to him. With Harmony gone, however, this would be the best time than any.

Rhys took a step forward. “Jack.” He waited, but got no answer. Not surprising, but definitely frustrating.

“Jack.” He tried again this time sterner. “When are we going to stop this?”

“Dunno what you mean, cupcake.” Jack’s voice was mockingly light as he replied, which only served to agitate Rhys further.

“You know what I mean.”

“’Fraid I don’t, kiddo. I’m just sittin on the sidelines. This is _your_ little adventure.”

“I can’t believe you…” Rhys huffed, crossing his arms and shaking his head. All this attitude and sass because the younger man had insisted they do something against his say-so? The young man’s fists clenched, could feel the rock hard tension in his real fingers. Not only was it disrespectful, rude, but it was….

“You know,” Rhys blurted out suddenly, “after what you said to me on the train…and after all that, I really thought you actually had faith in me.” His eyes suddenly turned to the ground at his feet, missing the way Jack’s head turned to side-glance over his shoulder at the younger man. Rhys let out a bitter laugh. “I guess I can file that away with the rest of my little fantasies, huh?” As if he spoke the quote right out of the memory, finding no gratification in throwing the man’s own words back at him. He kept his stare hard at the dirt in front of his feet, openly stewing at his thoughts. He didn’t notice Jack turn around to face him, staring at him with all the intent of replying when the moment was short lived by a distant high pitched wail.

Both men whipped their attention to the little girl coming around the boulders in a frenzy, one hand clutching a spot on her other arm and sprinting toward them with hysterical cries. She bounded straight for Rhys, who found himself instantly in alert.

“What happened? Harmony, are you – _oouff!_ ” He stumbled to catch himself when the little girl threw herself into his legs, digging her scrunched face into his thigh and muffling her sobs. He’d never seen her like this before. What the hell had happened? He gazed over to the boulders, then back down to watch her shaking form.

“W-What happened?” He finally stepped away from her to get a better look. Her face was almost bloodshot from her crying, face scrunched in what looked to be pain and fear. Before he could ask further his eyes immediately caught the red trails of blood seeping through the creases of her fingers that clutched her arm.

Rhys gasped. “Jesus, what happened to your arm? Why are you bleeding?” His panicked tone only made matters worse when Harmony let out another high pitched wail, tears streaming down her puffy cheeks. He could have slapped himself; definitely _not_ the best way to handle the situation.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I just…we need to stop the bleeding! Here, give me your arm –” the ear shattering scream cutting him off told Rhys that was _not_ an option. She held the arm to herself protectively and away from his reach, shaking her head frantically and continued to scream.

 _Don’t panic, idiot, you’re scaring her!_ This was what he meant by being out of his element; she was tiny, young, and bleeding profusely from her arm. There was a solution to this terrifying equation somewhere, but for the life of him could not figure it out, the only alarms shouting in his brain were _Oh God, so much blood. She’s hurt! Do something! Not sure what! Stop bleeding!_ He could feel himself begin to hyperventilate. She would not stop screaming, her crying only intensifying, and the blood, and he was just standing there like an idiot, and what if she bled out...?!

He suddenly felt a small shove, and froze when Jack knelt down in front of the girl. He grabbed her arm in his large hand and yanked it firmly out of her grasp. That ripped a gasp from both Rhys and Harmony, who watched with horrified expressions as Jack eyed the wound closely. Harmony opened her mouth to let out another symphony of sobs–

“Be quiet.”

–and immediately snapped her mouth shut.

Rhys dropped his wide open.

Jack’s eyes squinted over the abrasion on her tiny arm, a nice jagged cut from the looks of it, not too deep but enough to draw a pretty good amount of blood. His thumb grazed over the cut to smooth some of the blood away, and with a whimper Harmony tried to pull her arm back, but Rhys knew from experience that Jack’s grip was like steel on anything he got his hands on.

“For God’s sake it’s just a cut. You’re fine.” Jack rolled his eyes. He let go of Harmony’s arm with a mumbled _“stay there”_ and reach down to grab one of the ends of his oversized white button up behind his brown suit vest. With a sturdy yank they watched quietly as Jack tore a long strand of the shirt as if it was nothing. Placing the flat of his palm under the girl’s arm he laid the cloth over the cut and joined the two ends together.

Rhys watched, completely mesmerized, as Jack worked in silence. It was the first time he had truly acknowledged Harmony other than with snorts or rude comments. The way he wrapped her wound, how his hands worked diligently to tie the knot despite her fidgeting and whimpering, it was almost as if…as if he’d done this before.

He didn’t dwell on the thought for very long, as Jack spoke up again. “So what, you tripped and fell or something?”

Harmony paused for a moment, wide emerald eyes glancing between her arm and Jack’s face before little spouts of cries bubbled up her throat, eyes watering all over again as she nodded.

“I…” she hiccupped, “falled over…and… _hic_ …h-hit my arm….o-on a r- _hic_ -rock.”

“Nuh-uh, cut that out.” His other hand came up swiftly and caught the child trembling jaw, training her eyes to look into his. “Stiffen that lip kid, you’re fine. Just clumsy.” And with a humored snort he added, “Now I know why you get along so well with Bambi over here.” He nodded back at Rhys with a smirk.

Rhys’ initial reply was an indignant huff and he crossed his arms, but he couldn’t help but smile a little at the older man’s actions. Jack could be a monster, a ruthless dictator, a self-absorbed, pompous megalomaniac, but he never thought he’d see the day when that very man would be gentle towards a small child, and such a tender display tugged at the young man’s heart.

Jack then let go of the child’s jaw and stood tall to roll his shoulders, giving Rhys a soft smirk as he did so; the nicest acknowledgment he’d been given in hours. “Alright ladies, let’s keep going—” his words left him the second Harmony wrapped her skinny little arms around his leg and pressed her face into his thigh. Rhys gasped and Jack went rigid, eyebrows raised as he stared at the small child in disbelief. Harmony raised her head up to stare at Jack with a grin so wide one could see gapped teeth, indicating the loss of her first baby teeth.

“Thank you!”

Jack stared, mouth pulled into a frown and eyes narrowing softly. To the average person his expression would have been labeled as nothing more than mild irritation, but Rhys knew better. That look stemmed from somewhere deep inside the man, a deep seeded _sorrow_ , he was quite certain, that hadn’t seen the light of day in decades. Rhys wasn’t sure why, but he felt his own chest constrict painfully. His own hands curled into tense fists. What was happening to Jack? What was going through that complex mind of his that would flow out of him like a broken dam and wash Rhys away with the current?

Reality reared its ugly head then, shifting everything back into the scenery of the desert around them. Jack cleared his throat and stepped out Harmony’s hold with a mumbled “ _yeah_ ” and turned to grab the dead animal, heaving it over his shoulder with a quiet grunt. Rhys stood still, caught in what once was, blinking when he could no longer see Jack’s face as the older man soundlessly walked past him.

Rhys dropped his voice to a whisper, “Jack…you were so good with her. How did you…?”

Without turning to acknowledge the younger man, Jack replied back just as hushed, his tone monotonous.

“You forget that I was a father once, Rhys.”

Realization dropped from his head to his stomach like a solid stone. The memory of a small picture carefully placed on the corner of the massive desk in the CEO’s office flashed across his vision; of large blue eyes, freckles, raven hair, and a loving smile. Rhys’ eyes flickered to Harmony frolicking along behind Jack like a baby duckling following its mother.

_I did forget._

Rhys’ gut twisted painfully with guilt, cybernetic arm coming up to massage the back of his neck nervously. This time he welcomed the old habit. Jack’s unusually spiked mood swings were starting to make sense now, and Rhys had not once stopped to consider the reason being anything else than Jack throwing a tantrum that he didn’t get his way, that perhaps it was something a little more personal for him.

_I’m such an idiot…._

 

 

 

 

The desert was very quiet.

Despite the whipping winds, occasional distant echoes of a Rakk’s call, and other subtle sounds of the environment, Rhys realized just how silent the world around him could be. When one has lived the majority of their life on space stations they grow accustomed to the endless humming of background noise through the walls, what Rhys had always imagined was the ships _breathing_. And as creepy as that sounded, Rhys was grateful for the consistent noise. He remembered what complete silence was, in his youth. He also remembered hating it.

At the very moment this thought had occurred to Rhys he also realized that the winds had died down somewhat and not one croak or squawk from an animal could be heard anywhere in the vicinity. It was so… _quiet._ However, regardless of the twinge of anxiety creeping softly along Rhys’ nerves, he sorely wished the silence could have continued just a little longer.

_“zzzz….zzzzz…zzzzzzzzzz…”_

Instinctively Rhys flew his palm into his ear, wincing as the sharp slap stung the skin and rattled his head. He shook his head, trying to rid of the sudden miniscule buzzing. Had a fly crawled into his brain? _Oh God…that is so disgusting._ Only on Pandora would you find brain eating flies…

_“zzzzz…….zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzssshhhhh”_

He had heard this sound once before, last night as they boarded the Hyperion Transit, that nagging static-somewhat-ringing in his ears. A side effect of his damaged echo? He had only assumed as much, although he hadn’t paused to check on his cybernetics in a while, not after the wave of pain it caused him. To antagonize it further could shorten the hardware completely.

_“zzzzzzzzzssshhhhssszzz…Rssssssszzzzhhhhys.”_

Rhys stopped walking, eyes wide and fingers coming up to gingerly prod the port in his temple. Amidst the static and buzzing he could have sworn he heard something suspiciously like a word, more eerily his _own name_. But that was impossible; his echo wasn’t even _on_ , and there was absolutely no way he could pick up any transmissions from Helios or anywhere on Pandora for that matter.

He glanced around, seeing nothing, and was grateful for walking behind Jack and Harmony so they remained unaware, which was another peculiar thing about the cluster of noise; it seemed only he could hear it.

Was he losing his mind?

Wanting nothing more but to rid himself of that thought, Rhys inhaled deeply to calm himself. No use panicking over the loss of sanity when one has not even lost it yet…right?

He was still sane…yes. Perfectly normal. A little hot, quite hungry, but sane…he was _sane,_ dammit.

_“zzzzzzzzzzzz….zzzzzz-zzzzZZZZZZZSSSSSSHHHH…”_

Rhys winced and cupped his ears, hunching over in slight pain when the noise increased in volume nearly drowning all of his senses. His fingers began to tremble. Noticing this he began to apply pressure to his aching temples in circular motions, focusing on steadying his now erratic heartbeat.

_You’re not going insane, Rhys. You’ve got this. You’re perfectly fine…you’re just tired…_

_”zzzzzzz…y..ou’re getting closzzzer…”_

It was like a whisper in his ear, which sent the young frantic man stumbling back with a panicked shout.

“Oi, Rhys.”

And just like that, the static was gone.

Rhys whipped his attention in front of him, catching the alarmed stares of both of his companions. Harmony had tilted her head to watch him curiously, Jack right behind her giving his advisor a questioning arch of his eyebrow.

“You alright, kiddo?”

 _Am I?_ Rhys said nothing at first, trying to gain what was left to even answer Jack, or even himself, honestly.

The desert was quiet again.

“Y-Yeah…” Rhys gulped and straightened himself up the best he could. He still couldn’t stop the quiver in his shoulders, which did not go unnoticed by Jack who took the opportunity to lean onto the large rock they were currently standing by, shifting the weight of the dead animal on his shoulder to gain more leverage.

“Y’sure? You’re uh…acting a little crazy there, sport.”

“Is Rhys okay?” Harmony looked up to Jack, then back at Rhys worriedly.

“Yeah, I-I’m fine. Just…t-tripped on a rock. Hehe, you were right about me being clumsy.” He tried to play it off, even if it meant making himself look like a complete dumbass, he wouldn’t dare let Jack know of the static, of his brain potentially falling apart. He just hoped Jack couldn’t see the bolts and nuts coming lose too.

Luckily the older man bought it, as he let out a shoulder slumping sigh and shook his head. “Seriously, kitten, you’re even a danger to yourself when _walking_. It is quite a miracle how’ve you come this far—”

Jack’s words were abruptly interrupted by a chunk of the rock exploding only inches from his face. He pulled away just in time with a startled curse, body rocking back to catch himself before scrambling away from the explosion, dropping the dead Rakk and making for the safety just behind the rock, not before reaching out to grab the now screaming child by her arm and hoisting her up to tuck her into his arms. Rhys jolted back when the next blast came, this time at the dirt near his feet. With a yelp he landed hard on his ass but immediately scuffled back up to jump over the opposite side of the rock.

“What the shit!?” Jack snarled, back against the rock as the next wave of attacks came. “Who the hell is shooting at us!?”

It had all happened so fast, no one had prepared for it. Being so caught up in Rhys’ weird behavior, no one had even seen the new presence so dangerously close to them. Rhys looked over to see Harmony curled up in a frightened little ball next to Jack with her hands covering her ears. He glanced back up to Jack, finding the older man had withdrawn one of his pistols, cocked and ready, chest heaving in and out and a harsh snarl on his lips.

“Are you alright?” Rhys yelled over the blasts.

Jack whirled on the younger man. “There’s rock in my _fucking_ eyes and my ears are ringing. I’m just fucking _peachy,_ Rhys!”

Of all the times to be a smartass!

The small explosions subsided, and both men heard a voice call out to them.

“You got five seconds to come out or I’m blowing you to Kingdom Come!”

Rough old leather was the first thing to come to Rhys’ mind when he heard the newcomer’s threat. Too high pitched for it to be male, certainly not young, scratchy and harsh from probably decades’ worth of tobacco use. Whoever this was, packing what seemed to be a fucking _grenade shotgun,_ it was definitely someone seasoned enough to be quite the threat, even against Handsome Jack.

“Fuck off!” Jack shouted back, but not risking hopping up to get a good retaliation shot. “You want me to come out so you’ll blow my face off? Not a chance, asshole!”

“Three!” Another wave of explosions hit the body of the rock sending bellows of dusk and rock fragment in the air. Rhys could practically feel the rock shake behind him.

“Hah! That all you got!?” Jack cackled like a madman, exasperated and shot full of adrenaline. Through the fog of dust in the air Rhys reached out and grabbed the older man’s arm and shook it vigorously.

“Are you _trying_ to get us killed!?” Rhys all but screeched.

“That asshole just shot at my face! This shit’s personal now!”

“Two!” The voice shouted, followed by yet another onslaught of explosions. At this rate there would be nothing left of the rock. Rhys began to panic, but before he could call out to Jack he felt rough tugs on his arm from his right. He looked back to find that Harmony had uncurled herself from her protective ball, eyes large and watery as she stared at Rhys.

“Baba’s _really_ angry.” She sobbed.

It all dawned on Rhys at that moment as he stared back at the girl wordlessly.

So _this_ was Baba.

“Comin out in the day time are ya?” The newly named Baba shouted over the gunfire, voice harsh and loud as the rock shattered. “You took her. I know you have her! Roaming through the desert with your _noises_. Your sinful _songs_! Give her back to me!”

Rhys and Jack exchanged glances, Jack only looking more confused when the color seemed to drain from Rhys’s face.

_Roaming through the desert…your sinful songs…_

That couldn’t possibly mean…

The next round of attacks was indeed starting to ware at their shield, much to Rhys’ horror. It was then that they heard a squelching sound, of bullet tearing into flesh before dirt and Rakk remains, bits of flesh, bone, organs, and blood, rained down on them.

And that was when Jack promptly lost his shit.

“ _Goddammit,_ that was my dinner!” Jack roared, standing up and throwing himself out from the behind the rock and completely exposing himself to their assailant. Hell, he might as well have painted a big red target on his chest while he was at it, the big dumbass.

Jack raised his pistol and readied for his shot, eyes searching through the clouded debris between him and Harmony’s caretaker.

A sudden burning sensation crawled into Rhys’s body, forcing him up on trembling legs. Through the rain of dirt and wind driven rocks he could see Jack clearly in his line of sight, raising the pistol and aiming it. From behind Rhys he could hear Harmony screaming, sending bolts of burning electricity up his spine. He had to stop Jack, he couldn’t sit here and let Harmony watch as her caretaker was shot dead.

“Jac…John! JOHN! Wait! Don’t shoot!” Rhys screamed.

“I’m gonna enjoy the hell out of this, you stupid fucking…” when Jack’s eyes locked onto Baba’s he froze in mid-sentence, whatever he was looking at apparently turning him to stone, seemingly numb, the fury quickly draining from his face and replacing it with a petrified stare.

Rhys acted too quickly to consider Jack’s expression, as he bolted forward and threw his entire weight into the older man, wrapping both arms around Jack’s shoulders and taking him down, knocking a breathless shout from him and knocking the gun out of his hand simultaneously. They tumbled to the ground in a messy heap, Rhys scrambling for balance as he lay sprawled on top of Jack, holding him down by his shoulders.

“Fucking hell…” Rhys breathed shakily, “y-you could have killed…” he felt large hands on his forearms, and for a moment Rhys thought he was going to be thrown off of Jack. But when the hands didn’t move they instead gripped the younger man tighter, as if holding on for dear life.

“…. can’t kill ghosts….”

Was that _fear_ in Jack’s voice? Whatever nonsense he whispered, Rhys couldn’t take his eyes away from the man’s face who watched with aghast at the presence now approaching them, their shadow engulfing both fallen men and causing Jack body to stiffen under Rhys’ hold.

The cock of a gun met Rhys’s ears, and he looked up to see the barrel of a shotgun pointed directly at them.

“I’ll send you back to Hell where you crawled from, you desert dwelling _demons._ ” He felt the anger behind those words, aged well and bleeding years of fury and hate. It burned like a fire hotter than the Sun.

Rhys dared his eyes above the barrel, wanting to see the very monster that could blow boulders to dust, turning the tranquility of desert silence into a warzone, could terrify _Handsome Jack_ with utterly one look. And as the dirt cleared from the air Rhys gasped when he realized just who he was looking at was…

…an old woman?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't help but feel I rushed on this chapter. I apologize if it has that feel.
> 
> Hm...I wonder why an old woman would freak Jack out so bad...well, we'll just have to explore Jack's childhood a little deeper and find out. ;) 
> 
> Please stay tuned for the next chapter! All comments are welcome!
> 
> Thank you!


	10. Collecting The Shattered Remains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A million, bajillion, shmazillion times, thank you all, to those of you that have been around since chapter 1 and for those of you coming into the story new, thank you so much for your bookmarks, your kudos, and your wonderful reviews <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was SO LONG. And I was originally going to add more, but seeing as how this was over 7K words already, I decided to stop it where I did, because WHEW, it was a doozy.
> 
> My main focus of this chapter is centered around Jack and his character development. Warning, he might be a little OOC. I have NEVER wrote him like this before. but this is my opinion on how Handsome Jack would deal with a total mental breakdown :) I do love seeing my favorite characters suffer <3
> 
> Enjoy!

There was only a handful of times when Rhys felt himself succumb to nostalgia, the knee-trembling, spine shivering moments when a smell, a sensation, a familiar setting or face would rock his foundation and send memories flooding his mind, throwing him into a trance like state of remembrance, whether cherished or disdainful, could throw the entire vibe of his day off course. Rhys was a man that constantly looked forward, the memories of who he once was, of his childhood, only used to fuel his steps to future aspirations and goals. He could argue it as a defense mechanism, served as a blockade against the forces that made him revisit memories intentionally forgotten.

But there were times his past could pierce his defense, could spear right through with said sensations, a familiar face or scenery, and shake him to his core.

And in this very moment, he tore his eyes away from the shotgun wielding old woman above him to stare down at the man lay sprawled beneath him, his knuckles white from the death grip on his biceps, wide eyes glazed and locked onto their elderly assailant, as if nothing else mattered.

Rhys knew that look, a kindred reaction to his own haunted revisitations, but for the life of him could not solve the enigma that had so suddenly emerged. One thing he was sure of, was that for the first time he saw Jack’s core tremble, one he was always so sure to be an unshakable foundation.

Just what the hell was going on?

It was at that exact moment when Jack opened his mouth, jaw racked with spasms when words struggled to spill forth.

“… _How…_?”

Rhys had no time to further ponder the shaken man’s word, as a scratchy hiss followed by shuffled movement drew his attention back to the old woman and the tunnels of the gun’s chambers staring right into his eyes. He knew he should have done something, tuck and roll out of the way, _anything_ , but instead he blinked quietly, too muddled to do anything but.

“Baba, stop!” A small shrill, a saving grace, pierced the air between the three of them. A flurry of movement shot out from behind the rock, a scurry of tiny feet in the dirt rushed to meet them. Harmony flung herself in between Rhys, Jack, and Baba, her small heart shaped face distorted in despair and fright, tears streaming down her chubby little cheeks, her tiny arms outstretched to shield the two shocked men.

“Harmony?” _That_ tone was definitely not the hateful old leather Rhys heard before. This was one was…surprised, overwhelmed, relieved, compassionate. She switched the gun to one hand and lowered it to her side, other arm surging forward to envelope the small child, who jumped into the embrace just as swiftly, tucked against the breasts of her caretaker, she sobbed her little heart out against the old woman’s neck.

“B-B-Babaaaa!”

“Harmony…” the old woman’s arm, cloaked in ragged brown rags to block out the sun’s burning rays, seemed to tighten around Harmony, holding her ever so much closer, as if the child would disappear again if she let go. “…I found you…it’s okay, I’m here now….”

It was a touching moment between the two, a reunion Rhys suddenly felt he was intruding in on by his gaping stare. Quickly he gathered himself and looked away, giving them a respectful privacy and instead turning his attention to his own companion, who’s intense stare remained fixed on the pair’s heartwarming interaction with a twisted expression; utter disbelief swirling with a kind of distant bewildered disgust Rhys couldn’t quite map out. It was concerning, especially when Rhys could pride himself on how easy he could read Jack’s expressions. As brash and theatrical as the man could be, he wore his heart on his cheek.

Suddenly realizing he was still on top of Jack and straddling his waist, Rhys hastily scrambled up and off of Jack to give him space. He dusted himself off, and when Jack didn’t follow his lead he glanced down and noticed the man had not taken his eyes off the old woman. The younger man reached down to offer a waved hand, trying to get his attention.

“John?” Rhys called out quietly. Jack didn’t respond.

“John…c’mon, are you okay?” He reached down and touched Jack’s shoulder quietly, and the sudden reaction he got in return nearly made him want to pull back. Jack reared his shoulder back as if Rhys’ touch had electrocuted him, head whirled in his direction with the same wide eyes, unfocused, looking but not _seeing_ Rhys, not registering who the man was that just touched him. The action sent red flags in the younger man’s head; did Jack even know where he was?

After a few seconds of silence Jack finally blinked the fog from his eyes, much to Rhys’ relief, and reached out apprehensively to grab the offered hand and lifted himself up steadily. Jack looked around his surroundings silently, with all the frenzy of a dazed animal caught in a trap, trying to understand something Rhys still could not.

“John…” Rhys tried again, “…what’s going on…?”

If Jack’s prior actions didn’t startle him enough, the trembling reply he received from his question scared the shit out of him.

“…I died on that train…this-this is Hell…I’m burning….”

 _Ookay, I don’t think he was talking to me…. it’s official; Jack’s lost his fucking mind._ How Jack could go from pissed off guns-blazing to scared shitless in minutes was absolutely mind-boggling.

Was it because of this old woman?

Rhys turned back, giving Jack the space he needed to collect himself, _hopefully,_ and decided to make his presence re-known by Harmony and her caretaker still embracing one another. Three careful steps were all he took before the shotgun was pointed in his face once more. He halted immediately and raised his hands up in surrender.

“I, uh, um, okay,” he tripped over his words, finding it almost funny that as many times as he’s had a gun pointed in his face in the past two days, it still seemed he was not going to get accustomed to it anytime soon, “I-I don’t mean you any harm, I promise. My hands are up, no weapons. See?”

The woman’s warning never faltered, clutching Harmony protectively in one arm and the other carrying the weight of the gun surprisingly well despite how old she looked, a harsh scowl on her worn and winkled features, the unspoken _I will shoot your ass dead_ apparent between them. So they were past negotiating, just great…

“Baba can’t see.” Harmony said matter-of-factly.

“Harmony, _hush_.”

“Oh…” Rhys stammered awkwardly. He used that moment to get a good look at the elderly woman’s features; from her tattered brown cloak to her snow white neck length hair blowing freely in the wind. It was then that he focused on her face, looking past the evident aged wrinkles to the newly discovered scars, hidden behind her weather worn face but obvious when he realized how deep and gnarled they were, one very disturbingly deep scar reaching from the corner of her right lip, up her cheek, across her temple to disappear past her hairline where he noticed another horrifying scar on the right side of her skull, the area imperceptibly concaved compared to the left side of her skull. It told stories without words…of a wound so horrid…a bludgeoning.

Rhys glanced away quickly when his stomach lurched, unable to look at the scar any longer and fixed his gaze to Baba’s eyes, instantly taking notice of the white cataracts that engulfed her pupils, one eye slightly astray.

_She’s blind…._

When Rhys opened his mouth it was to offer words of sympathy or an apology, but what came out was…

“You went ballistic-trigger-happy on people you couldn’t even _see_? Wh…How…I mean you…is that like an everyday thing for you, lady!? What if you had shot Harmony!?”

“I don’t need eyes to know the kidnapping filth I’m shootin.” The old woman replied bitterly, her face warped into a deep scowl. She raised the gun threateningly, but before she could attempt anything Harmony squirmed out of her hold to stand on her own, coming between Rhys and Baba, hands perched on her hips and a huffy little pout on her lips.

“Rhys is not filf!” As serious as the child tried to be, her speech impediment was just too damn adorable, especially when she wagged an accusing finger at Baba knowing well the woman couldn’t see it. “He’s nice, Baba! He saved me from big scary Rakks! We played I Spy! And I falled and hurt my arm, and John helped too! He bettered it!”

The woman remained quiet throughout Harmony’s tantrum and listened. Her hold on the gun remained firm.

“What have I told you about strangers, Harmony?”

Harmony whined, her temper flaring _adorably_. “They’re not strangers, Baba! They’re _heroes!”_

Although Rhys could say he’d never been taken up for by an eight-year old child, he couldn’t argue that her sense of justice was extremely touching. Not even grown adults on Helios took up for one another -would rather throw you in oncoming gunfire than take a single bullet for you.

The young Hyperion smiled down at the child, and noticed that Baba had lowered her shotgun, looking in Rhys’ direction.

“That true, boy?”

After a moment Rhys met her fogged eyes and nodded. “Yes ma’am…we just wanted to see that she got home safely. We don’t mean you any harm.” The old woman nodded quietly. She tilted her head slightly to the side, as if looking with unseeing eyes past Rhys.

“If that’s true…why’s your friend pointing a gun at me?” It only took a second for Rhys to understand what she meant, and he whirled around to see Jack behind him, posture stiff and pistol raised at the old woman’s head.

Rhys, temper now flared and raw, stomped over to Jack and regarded him with an incredulous glare. “Are you out of your mind? Put the gun down!”

He was expecting some sort of smartass rebuttal, some lame ass excuse that would justify his actions.

“No.”

He didn’t expect such a quiet, unstable reply.

Rhys growled, “so what? You’re going to shoot a blind old woman in front of her child? Have you _lost_ it?!”

Jack wouldn’t look at him, instead just shook his head slowly. “You wouldn’t understand, kid. Get out of the way.”

“Of course I don’t _fucking_ understand!” The outburst surprised Jack enough to finally look at him. It even surprised Rhys. He’d never spoken to Jack like that before. But the frustration of ignorance was starting wear his nerves thin.

“…help me understand, Jack.” Rhys whispered finally, gulping down his anger in attempt to steady his mind. His gaze remained fixated on the older man, studying him, almost desperately. He caught Jack’s eyes then, green and blue matching brown and blue.

The young man held his breath when Jack opened his mouth, and waited through the silence for the older man to speak. As soon as he tried, the old woman spoke instead.

“You gonna shoot me, boy?”

Rhys and Jack turned and watched Baba slowly approach them, one quiet step at a time, aged lips a thin line and expression stone cold. She strode right up to them, the foot of height difference between her and the two men significant as she approached. She stopped when the tip of the gun met her forehead.

Panicked, Rhys looked back to Jack. The man seemed frozen, eyes glued to the woman inches in front of him.

“John, was it?” Her question was light, steady.

Jack didn’t answer.

The old woman chuckled deep in her throat. “Sounds like a name I use to know…”

Jack flinched.

She broke the silence again with a click of her tongue. “A’course, with my old busted noggin, I can’t remember a damn thing anymore.”

Something flickered in Jack’s eyes, how they widened the size of dinner plates with a realization Rhys couldn’t grasp. Dilated pupils roamed over the woman’s face, the scars, the indention on her skull, and back to her eyes. The young man watched, hair on the back of his neck practically standing. He was missing something very clear between these two, a fact he felt was so obvious, it was _there_ , right in front of him.

The pistol rattled against Baba’s skin. Jack’s hand was _shaking_.

The old Pandoran noticed. She laughed. “What’s the matter, kiddo? You’re shakin like a leaf.”

Rhys could swear he was the only sane human in this entire freaking desert. Did she not know who she was goading?! _Wait, of course she doesn’t, she’s blind._ Still, to provoke _Handsome Jack_ into shooting you? It was a death wish. The man didn’t _need_ provoking, he practically got off on the thrill of shooting people!

A whimper broke through the tension, small and frightened. Rhys watched Harmony slowly approach them, fingers nervously rubbing against each other, emerald eyes wide with innocence and brimming with unshed tears when she noticed the gun pointed at her caretaker’s head.

“Baba?”

Jack’s eyes glanced over to the child. Time appeared to slow as they all stood there quietly, waiting.

Finally, Jack lowered his arm to fall limply at his side, gun almost slipping out of his fingers in defeat. He tore his eyes away from the little girl to gaze out distractedly into the nothingness in the distance. Rhys felt his shoulders slump, a relief like heavy rocks lifting from them and exhaled a deep breath he wasn’t even aware he had been holding in. To his surprise, however, Baba let out a body trembling, lung rattling laugh that made the younger man give her a look that obviously questioned her sanity. It would have been a mocking cackle if it didn’t sound so light and hearty.

“I suppose I’ve been a little too mean. Can’t pass up scarin you youngins senseless.” A wrinkled smile spread across her worn features, and she tucked the shotgun into the holster strapped to her back.

“I guess I owe you boys for finding my Harmony.” She spoke calmly, “I don’t have to see to know you both are probably banged up. This desert’ll do that to ya. My hut’s not far off, about a few miles East. It’s not much, but there’s a hand well water pump so you can wash up, and I got stew on. You’re welcome to stay the night.”

Rhys gaped like a fish. One minute there’s guns being pointed and threats spat, and the next they’re being offered shelter and food?

“Uh…thank you…I’m sorry, I’m just a little confused here. You’re not going to kill us?”

“Don’t see a reason to.” The old woman smiled at her own joke, looking in Rhys’ direction before turning around and speaking to Harmony.

And that’s when Rhys caught it. It felt like all the lights in his head turned on at that precise moment and exposed everything he’d been so confused about during this entire ordeal. He hadn’t seen it prior, was too busy with the scars and the white pupils and trying not to get shot. But this time he definitely saw it in that brief period of time when she glanced his way, wrapped around those dusty orbs was the color of her irises. One blue…one green….

_Oh my God…_

Now it was Rhys’ turn to widen his eyes to dinner plates, staring at the woman’s retreating form, numbly watching as Harmony squealed and danced with excitement about her new friends coming with them, and Baba’s stew.

He slowly turned to Jack. The older man was watching him with a grave expression. Right now, he looked ten years older.

“Come on, boys. Let’s get going.” The old woman called back to them.

Her voice echoed around them. “It’s not wise to be out here after dark. When _they_ come out.”

 

 

 

 

 

Night had set in quickly after the incident in the desert, or perhaps time became a blur to Rhys as his mind was too occupied with his newly found discoveries, trying to process everything as if almost felt like a dream.

It was quiet in the little hut, save for the crackling of the fire in the middle of the room. Baba and Harmony’s home, a little makeshift shack built into one side of an overgrown boulder, was designed to be livable around the base of a large fire pit, the roof open in the center with a latch door to let the smoke from the flames vent out. On one side of the room sat two small hay beds wrapped in various mismatched blankets and small pillows, the other side bare except for the many shelves built into the walls, each shelf a different theme of belongings; pots, pans, and broken dishware on the top, jars of preserved food and dry meat on the second, clothes on the third, and random little objects on the bottom, probably Harmony’s personal items. There was no door, just layers of ripped tarp. Despite this, there was surprisingly no draft from the outside.

The only furniture in the home was an old wooden rocking chair near the fire, occupied by Baba who sat comfortably in silence, eyes closed as she rocked back and forth slowly. She had been there for most of the time since they had settled in, most likely resting her old body from her journeys to find Harmony.

For what felt like hours Rhys had stared at the fire, watching the large cast iron pot hang comfortably above it, observed the flames that wrapped around the bottom of the pot and licked the sides, boiling whatever contents were inside. The fire was warm and comfortable, and Rhys couldn’t help but inch a little further into it, thankful to be out of the night’s cold air and into a warm quiet surrounding.

Oh yeah, this was _way_ better than spending another wet cold night on the desert floor with nothing more than damp boxers.

He decided to look around the small room again, watching Harmony play with…he tilted his head to get a better look…something that looked like a doll; sticks and rocks held together by tiny ropes, four sticks protruding out like limbs, a small rag tied around it that looked like a dress, a small rock for a head, and hay stuck on top to resemble hair.

Rhys couldn’t help but ask, “did you make that?”

Harmony popped her head up when she noticed he was talking to her, and gave him a wide goofy smile.

“Yes!” Without hesitation she scrambled up and ran around the fire to Rhys, plopping herself into his lap unexpectedly without asking. Startled by her actions, he raised his hands to give her room, blinking dumbly when she finally made herself comfortable and raised her doll up for Rhys to see.

“Cindora, meet Rhys.” She dipped the doll as if to bow. “Rhys, meet Cindora.” Rhys looked at the doll. Harmony stared at him expectantly.

“Uh..oh! Sorry.” He couldn’t believe he was doing this, but he couldn’t not play along with Harmony; she was so _damn_ cute! He smiled at the doll and nodded his head. “It’s…nice to meet you…Cindora.”

Harmony giggled and proceeded to tell Rhys _all_ about Cindora, where she came from, her personality, what kind of rocks she liked. And as the small child rambled on and on it gave Rhys a chance to continue his observation around the room absentmindedly.

He suddenly caught sight of Jack, seated at the other side of the fire with his back against the wall, one leg stretched out, the other bent and supporting one arm. He hadn’t left that position since they’d arrived, and it almost reminded Rhys of a gargoyle the way he sat hunched, still, and silent, eyes hard and intense as the reflections of the flames danced in his eyes…those eyes that had remained unblinkingly on the old woman opposite of him on the other side of the fire.

From here, Jack didn’t even look like himself. He looked…older, as if the last few hours had taken years from him. It made Rhys uneasy seeing him like this, knowing only a fraction of what must have been going through the man’s head, blatantly tearing his sanity apart. The young man wanted desperately to reach out to him, wanted nothing more than to touch him, to run his hands through his hair and sooth him.

“You gonna ask already, or ya just gonna keep staring?”

Rhys turned to watch the old woman still rocking in her chair, both eyes closed, but it was apparent she could feel Jack’s stare on her. He couldn’t blame her. He’d been on the receiving end of those glares numerous times. Even the blind were affected by them.

“Nothing to ask.” It was the first words to come out of the older man’s mouth in hours, low and hoarse and full of caution.

Baba said nothing at first as she continued to rock in her chair.

“That’s fine. There’s nothing to say about it anyway.” There was a thoughtful pause before she added. “Harmony, sweetheart, grab some bowls from the shelf and serve our guests some supper.”

“Okay!” Harmony chirped and launched herself from Rhys’ lap, doll forgotten as she skipped over to the shelves. Rhys switched his attention between Jack and Baba, keeping a mindful watch over their conversation.

Baba spoke again with a tired sigh, “It shoulda killed me, this thing.” She pointed to her head. “At least that’s what the doctor said when they dragged me in. A miracle a woman my age could survive a beatin this bad.” She huffed a small laugh. It was bitter.

“It took my sight; it took decades of memories from me. When you’re my age there’s…really nothing left when you don’t have that. And hell,” another bitter laugh, “I don’t even know just how old I really am.”

Rhys listened quietly, a distant sympathetic pain in his chest as he listened to the woman’s broken story.

“But…” she lowered her voice, tone softer as she continued, “it did leave me with a purpose.” At that she opened her eyes and moved her head to acknowledge the little girl shuffling around behind her.

“And it gave me a beautiful gift.”

Just as Baba finished the sound of shattered porcelain ripped through the small room, amplified by the lack of space in the hut and made all three adults jump where they sat. Baba stood up immediately. Rhys raised himself on one knee to get a better look.

Shards of what was once a bowl lay scattered on the wooden floorboards beneath Harmony’s feet. Her arms already juggling three bowls shakily, her eyes wide and panicked as she looked at the mess she had made.

“I’m sorry, Baba!” She croaked, tears gathering at the edges of her eyes. “I broked a bowl. I-I didn’t mean to….”

“ _Harmony_.” The way Baba said her name, stern and sharp, made Rhys flinch. Beside him, he could practically feel Jack stiffen, could hear his labored breathing. The old woman made her way slowly to the little girl, even while blind could still move around the shards without stepping on them, until she towered over the child.

“I… _hic_ …I’m sorry, Baba!” Harmony began to sob over the bowl, her little body trembling. Baba raised her hand above the little girl’s head….

“STOP!”

…and planted her hand firmly on the top of Harmony’s head, ruffling her wavy brown hair and the lines of her face stretched with a warm smile.

“You’re alright, sweetheart. It’s just an old bowl. Now let’s get you up and clean this mess. We don’t wanna step on any pieces and booboo our feet, do we?” Her chuckle was gentle and sweet as she gathered the whimpering child into her arms and made for the broom in the corner, but not before turning around to acknowledge the other outburst in the room with an agitated frown.

“What are you screaming about, boy?”

Rhys had noticed it too, the panicked shout, and turned immediately, jaw nearly dropping when he caught sight of Jack. The man was nearly standing at this point, one arm outstretched for some unknown reason, mouth open and eyes wild. He remained like that for a few moments, blinking away the raw emotion until it seemed he finally snapped out of whatever world he was in. He looked the room over, eyes roaming over Baba, Harmony, the broken pieces of porcelain, Rhys, before finally taking a deep breath and standing up.

“Fuck this.” In three wide steps Jack fled the room, stalking through the tarp and into the night.

_What. The. Hell. Just happened?_

“Your friend is a strange one, Rice.”

“It’s Rhys. And yeah, he’s uh, he’s just awkward around people, and…loud noises. Hehe, I’ll just…go…get him.” He stood up abruptly and ran out of the hut, shivering when the cold air hit his warm body instantly. The glow from Elpis made it a little easier to navigate through the darkness. After a few feet he spotted Jack’s silhouette a little farther ahead of him, pacing back and forth manically.

 _Approach him slowly, Rhys. He’s not himself._ He had to remind himself. An unpredictable Jack was a dangerous Jack.

When Rhys was within earshot he called out softly. “Jack…?”

Upon hearing the younger man, Jack stopped pacing. He kept his back to him and ran a hand frantically through his hair. For a moment neither man said anything, the only sound between them was Jack’s harsh breathing.

“…she would have made me walk on them.”

Rhys barely heard it, had to crane his neck just to catch the last few words. His eyes narrowed.

“She didn’t seem angry about it, Jack. I don’t think she would have.”

“SHE DID!” Jack turned back and roared, his ivory teeth shining in the dark as he pulled his lips back into a snarl. Rhys flinched back and snapped his mouth shut.

“She _did_ ,” he repeated, his tone tight but less severe, “she…she took the pieces, and placed them in my palms.” He opened his hands to Rhys. “And I had to _squeeze_ them. Until she made sure I learned my lesson.”

Rhys opened his mouth again, but Jack beat him to it with a strangled laugh.

“You know how long it takes to learn a lesson, kiddo? Hm?”

“…”

“ _Hours_ … those shards stayed there, imbedded in my skin for _hours_ until I couldn’t feel my hands anymore.”

Rhys stared at Jack quietly.

The older man was in front of him in two steps, so fast that Rhys had no time to register how close Jack was until he felt hands grip his shoulder tightly. He winced.

“Jack…?”

“C’mon, let’s get the fuck out of here. Before the bitch snaps and starts drowning cats.”

“Drowning cats?”

“Nevermind that, Rhys! Let’s _go_!”

Now up close, Rhys managed to get a good look at Jack, and what he saw frightened him. He was use to the playful smirks, the ill-tempered snarls. He remembers the fluttering in his chest when Jack would look at him with rich, hot lust, how they softened when he openly showed affection.

He’d never seen this expression before, so broken, exposed to Rhys and the rest of the world that this man was reliving tortured events from a past he’d spent decades trying to forget.

It formed a knot in Rhys’ throat.

“That’s your grandmother…isn’t it?”

Jack said nothing for a while. His grip on Rhys’ shoulders finally went slack until they slid off and back to his sides. He took a step back, turned around, put his hands on his hips and took a few steps forward.

He sighed warily. “How’d you find out?”

“A few things.” Rhys replied steadily despite the tremble in his jaw. “You have a natural slang when you speak to her. Accents tend to strengthen when you’re around familiar people.” His reply to that was a small snort.

Rhys continued. “She called you kiddo. I mean, you both have the same mannerisms. There’s only _one_ person I know that calls people kiddo like that.”

And finally, “you both have the same eye colors. Heterochromia is a dominant gene in families.”

Jack barked out a laugh. “Sweet Jesus, you’re sharp. I don’t give you enough fucking credit for that, pumpkin.”

“Yeah…well.” There was _one_ other thing. “And…I may have been, ahem, the president of your fan club for a few years….” He confessed quietly with a twiddle of his thumbs. “I did a little researching.”

“That’s creepy.”

“I am a good president, dammit.”

“Am?”

“Was.” Rhys coughed. “…Okay, I still am.”

His attempt to lighten the mood was unfortunately cut short. Rhys could see Jack’s body stiffen as another apparent wave of memories flooded him, forced the older man to cradle his head in the palms of his hands.

“Those scars…I did that.”

“I guessed as much.”

Jack sighed. “I hired some bandits to take her out one day. Some years back. They gave me an echo recording of her screams when they were done. And I listened to them on repeat for hours.” It was a haunting thing to hear, uncomfortable even, but Rhys continued to listen.

“And I remember thinking _wow, she’s dead. She’s finally, finally dead._ Hah, I mean, I should have done that _years_ ago!” Jack lifted his head to look at the stars above them, and Rhys questioned whether or not he was really seeing them.

“If I had…maybe I wouldn’t have turned out so fucked up.”

 _Wait, was that a confession?_ Rhys could have pinched himself, hesitated when he considered that this could in fact all be a dream. _Never_ , had Handsome Jack actually admitted to his own faults. This was historic.

“I know you’re giving me a look, asshole. Don’t act so freaking surprised.”

Rhys blanched. “Excuse me?”

Jack turned and gave Rhys a sneer. “I may be fucked up, but I’m not ignorant. I _like_ killing people. I fucking _love_ it. When you can see the fear in people’s eyes as they see their own death coming. It’s _amazing_. Being covered in their blood. And the screams. I’ve tortured people just for the sake of hearing them beg for their fucking lives. And I know I’m going to kill them. And they know it too. And the rush I get when I realize that…”

Jack stopped himself with a shaky breath. He glanced at Rhys, eyes narrowing when he noticed the younger man was visibly shaking. It seemed to have an effect on him, as he looked away and to the ground at his feet.

“And you know what’s worse? I thought it was justified. Because I was the _hero,_ I could do whatever the hell I wanted and still believed I was the good guy, that I was the victim.

“Because when your ten years old and a woman who’s supposed to care for you repeatedly drives a _fucking buzz saw_ into your _goddamn_ back when you track mud on her nicely polished floors, or chains you to your bed and leaves you in a dark room for _days,_ you can’t help but create a sort of coping mechanism. And you know what that _coping mechanism_ lead to, cupcake?”

Rhys shook his head numbly.

“A FUCKING COMPLEX!” Jack all but screamed, a hand fisting through his own hair tightly. Rhys jumped back slightly, now more terrified of the man in front of him then he ever had been before.

The psychotic laugh that bubbled up in Jack’s throat only made it worse.

“It took dying in the crater of a volcano to figure that one out.” His tone switched again to one of eerie placidness.

Rhys shifted uncomfortably, cybernetic fist clenching and unclenching repeatedly. For years he wanted to know more about Jack, spent six months trying to understand how the man operated, how he thought, what made him _Handsome Jack_ , the very man who turned Hyperion into a _trillion_ -dollar corporation in a single day. He always assumed it had all started with a harsh upbringing…

…but this was madness.

Jack had finally evened out his breathing to a steady rhythm. With a voice so low, so unbearably stoic for a man of his caliber he said the words that finally drove Rhys over the edge.

“I wanted to pull that trigger today, kiddo. I wanted to put a bullet in that bitch’s brain so bad it _hurt_. And you know something? I couldn’t…I couldn’t kill her. S’why I hired a bunch of faceless inbreds to do it the first time. Because I’m a _coward,_ Rhys.” His stopped as soon as his voice broke, eyes tearing away from Rhys when he couldn’t bring himself to look at the younger man when he said it.

“Just like all those years ago…I had _so many_ chances, and I…I couldn’t do it, I was too fucking cowardly to end that old bitch’s life –”

Rhys suddenly threw himself at Jack, wrapping his arms around the man’s waist and pressing himself against the older man in a tight embrace. He placed his chin on Jack’s shoulder and squeezed his eyes closed, feeling the man’s racing heartbeat against his own. He inhaled Jack’s scent, of campfire smoke, leather, and gunpowder.

It was a heavy moment before Rhys felt Jack return the hug, fingers gripping into the back of the leather jacket and his white shirt, so hard that he could feel the indentions of the man’s fingertips in his skin. He squeezed Rhys back, holding him just as close.

“There’s nothing cowardly about not wanting to kill a loved one, Jack.” Rhys stuttered over the knot in his throat. “No matter what they’ve done to you…how much they’ve hurt you. Showing compassion despite that just makes you fucking human.”

Jack was quiet, and for a moment Rhys thought he wouldn’t answer. And that was fine. If he had nothing to say, he didn’t have to say anything at all.

But to the young man’s surprise, he heard Jack let out a shuttering breath.

“She doesn’t remember me…she doesn’t remember anything she’s done.”

Rhys nuzzled his face against Jack’s throat in attempt to sooth him.

“But I still do…I still remember everything. It…it’s not fair, Rhys.”

“I know.” Rhys answered simply. He pulled away from the hug to look Jack in the eyes, giving the older man a small smile.

“But that’s what second chances are for, at least…in my opinion. When she was given hers, despite her remembering her past or not, chose to look after a child that needed a loving home. The way she treats that child, it makes me think she’s not like how she used to be, severe injury or not.”

Jack gave a slight nod in agreement.

“And even you, Jack. I never thought I’d hear you say anything so minutely close to regret as you did just now.”

“And you never will, kid.”

That ripped a chuckle from Rhys. “Hah, I know. But… you were given a second chance too. Just to be lucky enough to have your memories, your past, to be able to reflect on them with a _second_ life. The people not lucky enough to get that would say that’s not fair. I mean, you have to admit, even as you are now, you’re not the same as who you once were.”

“Spoken like a true fanboy.”

The auburn haired man couldn’t hold back the roll of his eyes. “C’mon, I’m trying to be serious here.” He had to admit, seeing Jack crack a smile at their banter seemed to kindle a warmth within himself. He was starting to act like Jack again. That was good.

Rhys felt rough calloused fingers graze one side of his face, fingers dancing over his cheek to cup his chin, thumb smoothing over his bottom lip tenderly. He watched, transfixed by Jack’s now soft expression, eyes half lidded and a soft smirk on his lips.

“Jack…” he sighed, and felt himself lean into the touch.

“You gave me my second chance. I wouldn’t be alive if you hadn’t plugged me into that little noggin of yours.”

Huh. Rhys never thought about it in that light before. It made him feel…good, realizing for the first time just how much he meant to Jack. His smile widened. “I guess so, huh?”

And that was when Jack closed the distance between them, locking their lips together in a kiss Rhys had been waiting for. He brought his hands up to each side of Jack’s neck, thumbs running across the line of the man’s jaw on either side. A strong arm snaked itself around Rhys’s lithe waist, pulling him impossibly closer.

They stayed like that for an amount of time neither cared to consider, caught up in the throes of their kiss, hands grabbing clothes and skin, _feeling,_ tongues clashing against each other for dominance, _tasting_. It had only been a day since they rutted on the dirt floor, but to Rhys it felt like an eternity. He craved this, he was simply addicted to it.

They finally broke apart, out of breath and panting, and Jack grabbed Rhys by the back of the head and touched their foreheads together.

“Jack?”

“Yeah, babe?”

Before he could answer, Rhys stomach let out a most untimely and unattractive growl, so loud it seemed to echo off into the distance.

Thank _God_ it was pitch-black outside, because he would not give Jack the luxury of making fun of how red his ears were.

“I uh…” Rhys mumbled, “I could really go for some of that stew.”

The next noise that echoed through the desert night was not Rhys’s stomach, but the loud thundering roars of Jack’s laughter, deep and rich and straight from his belly. He had to lean on Rhys for support as he nearly doubled over, tears pricking the corner of his eyes. Rhys wanted to take offense, wanted to berate him for making fun of him, but he couldn’t help laugh along with him, as the sound warmed him more so than any fire ever could.

“Haha, Christ, pumpkin…you’re, hah, you’re something else, I swear.” Jack wiped a tear from his eye.

“Yeah, yeah.” Rhys smirked. He pulled away from Jack and took his hand, tugging him forward with a few steps toward the hut.

“Do you…do you want to go back? I mean, if you can’t I really don’t mind leaving…”

“If we did, you’d probably starve to death. Can’t have my little kitten waste away when he already weighs less than a string bean. Don’t worry, I’ll manage.” Jack walked up and patted Rhys’ belly with a wink before walking past him, this time Jack leading the way instead of him.

When they walked back through the tarp of the hut, Rhys was suddenly met with sixty odd pounds of force being thrown into his gut, almost knocking him down and causing Jack to have to jump out of the way.

“ _Ouff,_ what in the…?”

“Rhys! Rhys!” Ah, it was Harmony, the little wrecking ball of energy had managed to throw herself into him and latch on with all the force of a Bullymong’s jaw. Rhys smiled through the pain, looking down and noticing that while they were gone Harmony had changed into her little night gown, a pink frilly thing with bunny faces imprinted on it. Her hair was neatly brushed and tied up in a neat braid. Even the cut on her arm had been cleaned and had a new bandage on it. It was as if he wasn’t looking at the same little kinky haired, brown rag wearing Pandoran child he knew earlier.

“Look at you all cute and ready for bed!” Rhys gushed, lifting her and swinging her around in the air. Harmony squealed, spreading her arms out like a plane and enjoying every second of it. She weighed absolutely nothing, so it was easy to toss her in the air a few times, catching her and swinging her around before tossing her again.

“Now, now. It’s almost bed time.” Baba called out, emerging from a darker corner in the room. She had just finished doing something on the shelves before walking back over to them. “If you stir that child up again, _you’ll_ be the one spending hours trying to lull that to sleep.”

“Ha, sorry about that.” Rhys lowered the little girl back to the ground, who took off like a rocket around the hut with her arms out.

In the corner of his eye he watched Jack try to slink quietly to the back of the hut unnoticed, only to be stopped as Baba approached him. For a split second Rhys held his breath, the entire conversation outside still very fresh in his head. He stilled and watched them, keeping just enough distance and still be able to jump in if needed.

When Jack noticed the old woman walk up to him he seemed to go rigid and watched her warily. She stopped just a foot from him and looked up at him. She raised her hands to Jack and the man _actually_ flinched back before realizing that she was offering him the items in her hands.

“A high strung boy like you needs to calm down. Here, this should help your anxiety.”

Jack looked to Rhys, who stared back at just as incredulously with a small shrug, before looking down at the glass of brown liquid that smelled suspiciously like whiskey, and a cigar and matches in the other. As if hypnotized, the brunette reached for the items slowly, carefully, until he grabbed them from the woman’s boney fingers.

“Um…I mean, I’m not gonna argue with you there….” And just as Jack popped the cigar in this mouth those same boney fingers gripped his jaw firmly, bringing his face to her level.

Rhys’ whole body froze. His heart skipped a beat. And from the sudden petrified look on Jack’s face, the older man seemed one step from having a heart attack.

The old woman leaned in close, a sharp look on her wrinkled face.

“And no more of that language in my house, kiddo. You talk like that around the little one again and I’ll be giving you a bar of soap next time, you understand?”

 _Oh my God she did_ not _just scold Handsome Jack…well…technically that_ is _her grandson…._

Jack nodded stiffly, eyes wide and blinking stupidly at the old woman’s command.

“Good!” Baba let go of his jaw and turned to pick up a bowl from the small table next to her. She waddled over to the pot resting over the fire and grabbed the ladle. She spooned a large helping in the bowl, plopped an old spoon into it, and without even turning around handed it out next to her where Rhys stood.

For being blind, she was _really_ good at knowing just where people were.

“And for you, bean pole. A nice big helping.”

 _How did she…?_ Rhys took the bowl from her hands slowly, giving her a skeptical look. “T-Thank you. How did you know I’m tall and thin?”

The woman, despite her lack of vision, gave Rhys an expectant look. “I don’t have to be blind to guess that you’re a scrawny little thing. It’s in your voice.”

“Oh, I see. I mean, that makes sense…wait! What? You mean I sound _scrawny_?”

Baba walked to her rocking chair without answering. Hearing a chorus of snickers to his left, Rhys whipped his head around to glare at both Jack and Harmony seated by the fire, quietly laughing at him. His pouted and turned back to his food. “That’s rude. You know what? I will enjoy my extra helping of stew, thank you very much.” To prove a point, he dove in immediately, popping the spoonful in his mouth and rolling the broth and meat in his mouth. And oh sweet mother of Helios, it was the best fucking thing he’s tasted in what felt like _years_.

Rhys openly moaned, finding the broth exquisite and the meat…well, very chewy. Very, _very_ chewy. Like, so chewy that he kept chewing, and chewed some more.

“You like the stew, Rhys?” Harmony wiggled in her place next to Jack.

Rhys nodded, _still_ chewing. “Mm. Ish good. Mm, I gotta ashk. What kinda meat ish thish?” He said with a mouth full of gummy meat.

Baba answered him swiftly. “Bullymong tongue.”

“Oh my G –” Rhys almost choked. He convulsed a few times, then finally, not wanting to be impolite, swallowed the meat down in one agonizing gulp. He could feel tears prick his eyes. “Oh…oh, that’s…that’s something.” He nodded weakly, giving a thumbs up. “Yeah…that’s _good_ stuff.”

“Baba!” Harmony suddenly shouted, propping up on her little knees with Cindora nestled to her chest. “I wanna hear a story!”

Baba chuckled from her rocking chair. “That’s fine, sweetheart. What story would you like to hear?”

Harmony put a finger to her chin in thought, then her eyes suddenly lit up brightly and she smiled.

“The Desert Song!”

“Wait, what?” That caught Rhys’ attention, and he looked up from his meal to glance between Harmony and Baba.

“Oh, that old story.” Baba almost groaned. “I tell you this story almost every night. Are you sure?”

“Yes! Yes! That one!”

“Mm…alright fine.”

With a high pitched squeal, she bolted from the floor, hopped over Jack in one leap to land effortlessly in her new thrown that was Rhys’ lap. Without asking, _again,_ she nestled in like a baby bird and tucked herself against him. Too consumed with the topic at hand, Rhys barely registered the little girl’s intrusion of his space and set the bowl down next to him.

“So…” Rhys began unsteadily, “there’s like, an actual story out there about this? Like it’s a real thing?”

“It’s just some silly children’s ghost story,” Jack grumbled between drags of his cigar, hunched against the opposite wall, one hand stirring the whiskey in his glass.

“ _Some silly children’s ghost story_ ,” Baba mocked in a nasally voice, earning an unseen glare from Jack’s direction. “It’s very real, boy. Out there, in the dead of night, when the bewitching hour falls over the desert. That’s when _they_ appear. If you think it’s silly, you should go into town and hear some of the witness reports.”

Rhys all but suddenly lost his appetite, as dread filled his stomach and threatened to crawl up his throat.

“And what…are _they_?”

And that’s when Baba’s lips twisted into a sinister grin, the many lines on her face creasing, the scar on her face looking that much more deep. The light of the flames flickered against her pale old skin. Rhys couldn’t stop the full body tremble that racked him from his shoulders to his feet.

“Well, why don’t you get comfortable, young man, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I...am exhausted lol. But I hope you all enjoyed the angst and the fluff, because next chapter, let me tell ya, it's gonna get pretty fucked up. (and there will be more Jack's past angst!)
> 
> Like, really fucked up. I'm almost to the peak of the story, so stay tuned for more! And as always, all comments are welcome!!
> 
> Thank you!


	11. The Desert Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the wait! I literally had to revise this story like three times until I was happy with it lol. 
> 
> As always, I want to thank all of you who have been reading, reviewing, leaving kudos, bookmarking, and taking the time to appreciate my story. :) Here's to all of you that have waited so patiently!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this feels a bit rushed, the chapter was more dialogue than anything, something that I came to accept when I wasn't sure how else to capture the theme X/ I hope you all enjoy!

“There is a time during the night in which a darkness covers the land so thick the very stars and moon above cannot penetrate. It is said that in the moment of pure blackness the world becomes a host to much more, allowing what cannot be when the light of the sun touches to resurface and roam about; allowing _them_ to roam about.”

A dramatic pause. The creaking moans of the rocking chair harmonized with the sharp crackles of the roasting fire. A thoughtful moment of contemplation.

“You will never see them, like a blur in your peripheral, a fleeting phantom in the shadows…but you can _hear_ them, a noise so _distinct_ , across the barren plains, so unlike any other it has been said to drive the most stable minds _mad_. And when you _do_ hear it… _they_ will know.”

Another bout of silence. Baba leaned quietly back in her rocking chair, folding her hands quietly in her lap as she leaned her head to one side thoughtfully.

Rhys, who finally succumbed to the burning dryness in his eyes, finally realized he hadn’t blinked since the entire story started and rubbed his eyes with his palms. He let out a quiet breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding, and found it rather odd at how manual his breathing had suddenly become. Looking down he noticed the prickles of goosebumps on his skin. He could handle ghost stories, horror movies, the works. Fiction, that’s all it was. He could laugh it off.

But there was _something_ about this story…something that plucked his nerves like an abused instrument.

Just as Baba was about to continue her story, Rhys couldn’t help the question that bubbled up his throat.

“What…” he whispered, almost trance-like, “what _are_ they?”

Baba shrugged. “Some claim they are the apparitions of grudging specters wandering the desert after The Dahl Withdrawal.”

The Dahl Withdrawal. Rhys had definitely heard something about this while studying as an intern with Hyperion, having to understand the planet they were revolving around. Somewhere in the textbooks scarcely mentioned, past the biology of the animals and plant life, beyond the chapters of the ancient Eridians, it was said that Dahl had abandoned all plans for the planet and uprooted. What came from it was massive devastation. The wealthy had fled with ease. But the low-level workers; prisoners and poverty stricken-work hungry civilians that were forced to work the land, had been left behind to starve and fend for themselves, most becoming food for the animals of the planet after they had awakened from hibernation.

“What’s _Doll_ , Baba?” Harmony inquired, her little eyebrows scrunched together in confusion as she struggled to understand the new topic.

“One big fat joke.” Jack answered her with a snort while he sipped his whiskey, still propped comfortably against the far wall. To the naked eye it seemed the CEO’s mind was elsewhere than the story, but his sudden input was a dead giveaway that he’d been listening in rather intently.

“Not a big Dahl fan, are ya?” Baba seemed to pick up on Jack’s tone and raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you both were pro-Hyperion.”

 _If only you knew_ drifted through the air unsaid between Rhys and Jack both, who exchanged knowing glances simultaneously.

“What can I say,” Jack smirked into his drink and shrugged rather smugly, “they make pretty darn good weapons.”

“I guess,” Baba dismissed his words with a nonchalant wave of her hand, “if I have to listen to one more thing about that head guy up there from the townspeople...whatsis name…Hairy Jake, er, Happy Hal…”

“ _Handsome Jack._ ” Jack corrected her through gnashed teeth, snarling into his drink and giving his grandmother a hateful glare.

“Whatever. I’d be tempted to blow my own ears off. Blind _and_ deaf. That’s one man that just loves himself a little _too_ much.”

Rhys slapped a hand over his mouth too late as a rather absurd and raucous laugh tore from his mouth. He glanced over to Jack, trying to look apologetic but utterly failing when his shaking shoulders gave away his continued laughter, the look he was given in return was all but sour and threatening. The older man let out a harsh snort and turned his attention back to whatever object in the room he was staring at prior, mumbling angry nothings under his breath as he did so.

“Can we get back to the story, _pleeeease_!?” Harmony bounced in her seat between Rhys’s legs, her cheeks puffy and pink with agitation. Her adorable little sass was too much, as Baba let out a light chuckle and shook her head.

“Sorry, little one. Now where was I…? Oh yes. Ghosts are what some believe them to be. Goblins, Wereskags, inbred family of humans secluded from the rest of the world. I’ve heard them all.” Her tone all of a sudden morphed to the eeriness it once was in the beginning of the tale, setting the mood once more. All the humor in that moment seemed to fade and Rhys shifted to make himself as comfortable as possible against the wooden wall of the hut.

“What do you believe they are?” Rhys asked, noticing that with that question he seemed to take the old woman off guard. Her unseeing eyes narrowed in thought, one hand coming up to stroke the wrinkled skin underneath her chin.

It was a good few seconds before the woman spoke again. “Bout a year ago I took Harmony into town to see the doctor. Poor thing had a bad cough. So we’re waitin with everyone else in the lobby…. And that’s when they brought this man in.” Baba’s eyes narrowed, as if rekindling the memory in her mind. Rhys caught the sudden drop in her tone, and without reason he felt himself tense.

“He was a big fella, so it took a good three men to carry him in. He was _thrashing_ and _snarling_ , like a _rabid dog_ about to be put down, begging everyone in that room to listen to him. I thought nothing of it, was some psycho they had hit with a car and took sympathy on. When Harmony asked me why he was bleeding so bad I made her close her eyes and look away. Something was wrong with him…but it didn’t click until they strapped him down in the chair, tied his hands and feet. And when they did that he _really_ let loose; talkin’bout the blood on him wasn’t even his own, it belonged to his buddy.

“They asked him where his buddy was… and the man seemed to calm down, like he had to think about it. Can you guess what he said, boy?”

Rhys gulped, eyes wide and throat tight. He shook his head slowly. “No….”

“ _They took him.”_ She hissed low and sharp in a way Rhys could have easily imagined it coming from a depraved man.

“They had been traveling through the desert for some days, claiming to head for the mountains to get a new start. His friend had been complaining of a sound in his head, coming and going. But the man said he didn’t believe his friend. He couldn’t hear it, so he brushed off the other man’s claims as exhaustion. They had made camp that night somewhere, _out there_ , in the wasteland.

“He told us that he had woken up hours later, sometime after midnight, to _screaming_. His campfire died, and he could see nothing but the pitch black darkness around him, could hear nothing but his buddy’s frightened screams. He panicked, and grabbed a flare from his night bag. Right before the screams had stopped he lit the flare and waved it around him wildly, trying to get to the other man.

“The blood, he said, was already on him when he looked down at himself, painting the ground beneath him, trailing out into the dark where the flare’s bright light couldn’t reach. And so…he followed it.

“ _When I found him,”_ Baba dropped her voice again, mimicking the ramblings of the Pandoran traveler, “ _I mistook his body for a mutilated skag.”_

The room had gone absolutely silent, save the creaking of the rocking chair. A slow pain built up around Rhys’s jaw, and he realized he had been clenching his teeth the entire time, had subconsciously curled in on himself until he noticed his hands were gripping his own forearms tight enough to leave indentions in his skin. He chanced a look down at Harmony, watching her eyelids flicker across sleep-glazed eyes, clutching her makeshift doll close to her chest, seemingly _unfazed_ by the entire story. Perhaps hearing it a dozen times she had more than likely grown an immunity to it. He then glanced up to Jack, brows lifting in surprise when the older man was watching Baba as she spoke, the glass of whiskey waiting near his tightly drawn lips, he too entranced in the old woman’s story to even take a sip of his drink, the ash piling at the end of his cigar a clear sign as well.

Rhys tore his eyes away to look back at Baba and cleared his throat. “Did…did he see them?”

“…The man started hysterically sobbing then. Couldn’t really make out what else he had to say, but he kept rambling on about how the darkness attacked his friend, _the_ _darkness_ drug the corpse into the night… this… _darkness_ was tall, a silhouette darker than the black of night. He said all he could do was just stand there, too afraid to approach it as it remained where it was, just beyond the flare’s light, _watching_ him with these eyes, the kind that could rip right through you and shred your soul. And just before the man could so much as blink, he heard a whisper in his ear, the silhouette no longer in front of him, replaced by an overwhelming presence behind him. Next thing he knew; he was awoken by a small group of men carrying him into the nearest town… _t_ _hree_ days later.”

Baba finally let out a chuckle as she came to the end of her story. “Spooked those stupid townspeople something fierce. That story travelled like wildfire out here for months.”

Rhys watched the tremble in his hands, how his fingers twitched on their own. Unable to look away he said, “did…did anyone believe him?”

“Hm. Made for a good story, but once the doctor stamped a _crazy_ on his forehead they sent him off on the loony wagon to the next town. Said the man had been out there in the desert for days, brain so leathered from dehydration it had done permanent damage. Wasn’t right ever since.”

From the other side of the room, Jack mumbled incoherently under his breath, “ _another_ _fucked up story, grandma.”_

Baba turned her head. “What was that?”

“I said thanks for scaring the hell out of my partner here, _lady_. Kid looks like he’s about to crap himself.”

“I..I’m not!” Rhys sputtered, giving Jack a furious pout. He wasn’t wrong though, as the room suddenly felt suffocating now, a hint of claustrophobia setting in and forcing the young man to breath more forcefully. Heat gathered around his face and he brought his flesh hand to his forehead. Huh, when did he start sweating? He looped a metal finger in the collar of his shirt and shook it albeit more fervently than he meant to.

His thoughts began racing with the room around him. Not a good sign. His pulse quickened, could feel it knocking against his ribs almost painfully. What was going on? Was he…was he having a panic attack? _No,_ Rhys thought, _not here. Not in front of them._ It was just a stupid ghost story…right?

“That’s…” Rhys couldn’t stop the tremble in his voice, or the strangled laugh, “all just a part of the tall tale, right? N-None of this _really_ happened, r-right?”

Baba let out a deep throated chuckle, rocking back and forth her chair almost pleased with herself when the young man sounded so disturbed. She was a sharp old woman, of course she noticed it.

“ _Of course_ it’s not real,” the way she cooed, it was almost mocking and cruel, sarcastic even, “I’m sure that man probably just _bumped_ his noggin and woke up to his dear friend’s ripped up corpse. Who knows, maybe he was just a lonely little man looking for someone to listen to him. Or perhaps I _did_ make all that up.”

That certainly didn’t help Rhys’s frazzled nerves. He watched the woman, waiting for her to laugh and admit her playful streak. Seconds passed by, and when she _didn’t_ , he began to worry.

“A young thing like you, sweet and quick to aid another in danger, it must be a relief for you to know it’s all just a made up folktale. You’d be _easy_ _pickins_ out there if it wasn’t, huh boy?” She leaned forward in her chair, a smile he hadn’t seen on the woman yet curled across her lips. Her dead eyes bore into his with a strange intensity. Rhys almost felt…displaced as he stared back, a spark of fright bolting up his spine. His fists clenched at his sides.

It didn’t make any sense; where was the nurturing old woman with a newfound perspective on life? This…this twisted face, the vicious smile, those hollow eyes, just what the _fuck_ was she right now? Was he seeing this woman through the same looking glass that Jack had been this whole time?

He suddenly came to realize he could not fault Jack for acting the way he did today, because for a split second he could have argued that the woman he was staring at this very moment was not a woman at all, but a _demon_.

When Baba spoke again, Rhys visibly winced back. “I’m sure you’ll be _just_ _fine_ out there, kiddo. Just as long as you don’t hear the _songs_. Because if you do…”

Rhys’ eyes widened as the panic he fought so desperately to control overtook him, ripping a gasp from his throat.

“…you’ll end up just. Like. That. _Corpse._ ”

The young brunette had just enough strength left in him to launch himself up without disturbing the sleeping child in his lap, placed one trembling hand on the wall for support and with quivering knees managed to stumble out of the hut, the cackling laughter stinging at his back like needles in his skin. His heartbeat now drummed in his ears, his vision spinning so fast he couldn’t tell where he was until he lost his footing and landed harshly on his hands and knees in the dirt. His stomach twisted painfully, bile surging up his throat but he managed to swallow it down. He tried to inhale through his nose, scared that if he opened his mouth now he really would projectile vomit. It wasn’t enough, his lungs were burning. He squeezed his eyes closed, and when the spinning only increased he popped them back open to stare wide eyed at the desert in front of him.

It was quiet…it was dark.

It was so _dark._

_“zzzzzzzzzssshhhhssszzz…Rssssssszzzzhhhhys.”_

_Stop…_

_“zzzzzzzzzzlovely name....zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz_ _.”_

_Stop it…please!_

He fisted his hands into his hair, grabbing chunks of his brown locks tightly. He shook his head. This was not happening…those noises…it was just static. They weren’t _songs_. It was white noise, glitches in his fried cybernetics.

_”zzzzzzz…y..ou’re getting closzzzer…”_

A choked sob racked his shoulders. Why…why was this happening? These noises…it wasn’t music, there was nothing about them that could be considered songs. So _why_ … why was that stupid story driving him insane?

_It isn’t real…it isn’t real…IT ISN’T REAL!_

“It’s not real, Rhys.”

It was like someone pulled him out of water, as if coming back to the surface, those four words dragging him out of the twisted musings that threatened to drown him. Slowly the young man let go of his hair and allowed his hands to fall limply at his sides. Breathing erratic and vision coming back to him he turned around to find Jack standing behind him, casting down an unreadable expression as he watched his PA curled up in the dirt. The thought made Rhys want to laugh bitterly; Jack probably thought he was either a) a mental nutcase, or b) a scared little pissbaby, or c) both.

However, to Rhys’s surprise, Jack knelt down to sit next to him, acting as if he didn’t just catch the younger man in a moment of complete insanity, and placed a gentle hand on the back of Rhys’ neck, thumb circling his nape in an almost soothing manor.

“She got to you, didn’t she?” Jack’s voice was strangely controlled, calm in a manner that didn’t suit him… _at all_.

He didn’t understand the comment at first, but once he understood Rhys nodded shakily. “Y-Yeah…I guess she did.” He palmed his eyes, rubbing the ache from them. “…holy shit.”

Jack let out a hollow chuckle. “I know. Old bat’s still got an antagonistic streak to her.”

There was a silence between them before Jack continued thoughtfully, “she was always pretty good at those messed up stories of hers. Shoulda seen in her in her prime, that woman was _creative_. Fun fact; I was _sixteen_ when I finally stopped believing in blood thirsty fairies that would eat you in your sleep if you didn’t roll your socks correctly.”

“What?”

“You tell anyone about that and I’ll beat you senseless, pumpkin.”

Rhys laughed quietly and shook his head, feeling somewhat lighter about the entire subject. He glanced over at Jack, watching the man stare out into the desert in front of them, chin perched on his hand, elbow resting on his propped knee, a fond expression on his masked face. His finger tapped against his temple rhythmically.

Finally, the older man hummed. “So tell me, what’s the _real_ reason why you’re so shaken up about that little ghost story?”

The younger man blanched for a split second, taken off guard by the sudden inquiry. Jack’s eyes cornered his partner with a suspicious glint. Damn, he should have known better; as if the man had a hound’s nose for sniffing out bullshit, could solve a lie like a math equation and could squeeze out secrets like fresh fruit. Colorful analogies aside, the CEO was perceptive.

Should he just tell him? What would he say? _Jack, I can hear things in my head, and I think angry ghosts are out to get me. Can we go home now? I’m scared._ Oh yeah, _that_ would bode well…not. He couldn’t even begin to gauge the other man’s reaction to that. _Oh and while we’re at it, there’s some other tiny little things I haven’t told you about; projects, funding, ya know, things that your company is investing in that you have NO idea about because I’m scared you’re going to tear my throat out._ Would now be a good time to let it all out, to just drop all of these issues on Jack’s lap and hope for the best?

“We’re a team, remember that?” As if Jack could read his thoughts, those words sent chills up Rhys’ spine, tempting words he wasn’t prepared for to spill from his mouth. “I trust you, Rhysie. And gaining Handsome Jack’s trust is not an easy feat in this universe, let me tell ya. You can…” he seemed to shift uncomfortably at the next words, “…ya know, _talk_ if you need to. I might make fun of you, judge you a little, but I’ll listen.”

_Don’t tell him, he’ll flip out. Look what’s been through already, he may not be in his right mind to handle it._

_Tell him. He needs to know everything. Keeping it from him longer will only make things worse._

_He’ll kill you._

_He’s changed. You’ve been intimate with him. He won’t hurt you._

_He’ll fucking kill you._

_Tell him._

“I’m fine, really.” Rhys met Jack’s narrowed eyes with a soft smile, voice light and calm. He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s just a creepy story to hear when the two of us are… in the position we’re in.” He shrugged. “Spooky when you think about it.”

Jack watched him quietly, searching for a falter or a second of hesitation most likely. Finally, after what seemed like forever, the bigger man’s shoulders shook as he chuckled and he shook his head.

“You’re such a wuss.”

“Says the man who was scared of fairies at sixteen.”

“I will literally punt you across this fucking desert, kid.”

Rhys laughed, letting the relief calm him somewhat, meanwhile struggling with the sudden surge of guilt that flipped his stomach. His thoughts were broken by a dramatic yawn as Jack made to stand sluggishly, stretching back and throwing his arms up over his head. “Good talk. Now I don’t know about you, pumpkin, but I’m freakin tired. Imma go pass out on the floor. You coming?”

Rhys didn’t follow his lead, instead looking up at the older man as he glanced back expecting an answer. The young advisor was tempted to turn his eyes away as the awful feeling in his gut increased as he stared up at Jack, hoping the shame wasn’t as apparent as he thought it was.

_I’m so sorry, Jack._

“You go on. I’ll be in there in a moment.”

“Suit yourself. Don’t stay out here too long, kiddo, or big bad Jack’ll have to be kill some ghosts for your scrawny ass.” With a playful snicker Jack turned and left Rhys alone to sit in the dirt quietly to observe the nighttime scenery around him, _watching_ the darkness, replaying the old woman’s story like a broken record in his head.

 

 

 

 

 

The cold wooden floor of the hut proved to be surprisingly comfortable as Rhys slept through the night undisturbed. He must have been more exhausted than first thought, for he slept deeper than he had in what seemed like months.

When Rhys awoke the next morning, he was met with an empty hut. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he sat up groggily and ran a tired hand through his hair to smooth back his wavy brown locks. The two beds in the corner were empty, and Jack was nowhere to be seen. Had he overslept? Where had everyone gone?

He lifted himself up stiffly and rolled his shoulders in an attempt to work out the kinks. Hushed conversations and high pitched laughter filtered into the room from outside the doorway. In a sleepy trance Rhys followed the sounds until he walked through the tarp, squinting at the bright morning sunlight that stung his eyes as he stepped onto the porch. The first thing he saw once his eyes adjusted was Baba to the right of him, toking away at an old tobacco pipe and rocking back and forth in her rocking chair, a phantom smirk on her lips as she listened to her surroundings contently. It was when Rhys looked to his left that what he saw immediately awoke the rest of his sleep riddled consciousness.

With a face scrunched in anger and determination, Harmony reared the top half of her body back, arm raised and tiny fist clenched. With all the ferociousness of a kitten she growled and sailed her fist forward, the impact of her little knuckles against Jack’s wide hand echoed a small smack.

Harmony gasped, eyes widening, and pulled her hand back hastily. “Like that!?”

“There ya go, kiddo. Now you’re gettin the hang of it.”

Rhys stared, completely dumbfounded, blinking between Harmony’s excited jumps to Jack lazily sitting against the wooden exterior of the hut, head leaning back against the wood and watching Harmony with an almost bored look. His hands were spread out in front of him, ridiculously large against the child’s tiny fist.

“Again.”

And so Harmony readied herself a second time, bending her elbows and balling her fists, tongue poking out of one side of her mouth in concentration. She reared back her right arm and threw her fist into his palm, then repeating the same action with the other fist.

“It’s all in the shoulder, cupcake. Don’t go using your wrists or you’ll break them.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Um….” Both heads turned when they realized Rhys had been standing there watching them. Harmony ran over to the tall brunette and wrapped her arms around his leg tightly. “Rhys! Did you see that? Did you?”

Rhys blinked down at the child blankly and nodded.

“About time you awoke from your slumber, Sleeping Beauty.” Jack bellowed as he stood up, walking over to the younger man and bumped his chin with the back of his thumb, a lazy grin on his face. Oh no, he knew that look well. “I was afraid I’d have to break the spell with a single kiss, _princess_.”

Harmony squealed and Rhys squawked, his cheeks slapped with a hot red blush. “N-No! Jeez, John, not in front of _her._ ” He nodded down at Harmony.

Jack only winked in response before turning around, perching his hands on his hips, making his shoulders seem that much more broad, and regarding the desert in front of him with a deep breath, a smirk playing on his lips. The man seemed to be in a good mood this morning. That was a good sign, meant that he had been able to get a good amount of rest as well. Peeking out just past the collar of Jack’s white button up were the old bruises around his neck that seemed to be a more faded healing-yellow now, assuming that a decent night’s rest had helped not only a worn mind but also to heal any aches and sores as well.

“Ready to go, pumpkin?”

“We’re going now?” Rhys questioned, a little baffled by the suddenness of their departure.

“Oh yeah. Can’t waste any more time. We gotta get to Hel…” Jack stopped immediately once he realized what he was about to say, quickly catching himself, “…get back home.”

“You’re leaving?” Rhys felt the small arms around his leg tighten, heard the waver in Harmony’s tone when she asked. He looked down and met her big exuberant green eyes as she stared up at him, her bottom lip beginning to quiver and her little chin scrunching with the promise of a sob. And damn if it wasn’t the most heartbreaking, puppy-eyed expression Rhys had ever seen.

He knelt down in front of the girl when she let go of his leg and curled her hands to her chest nervously. Rhys gave her a soft smile and reached up to cup one side of her face with his flesh hand. “I’m afraid so.” He blanched when tears began to pool her large eyes almost immediately. “B-But don’t be sad! I had a lot of fun, and thank you so much for everything you’ve done for us, Harmony! You’ve been so kind to share all of your cool stories, and your home, and for playing with me. I’m glad I got to be your friend.”

“Friend?” Harmony chirped, and for the first time the brunette witnessed a blush light up her tan cheeks and on the bridge of her freckled nose.

“That’s right!” Rhys gave her a wide grin, moving the hand on her cheek away to hold it up in front of her with his pinky finger extended to her. “Friends never leave friends forever, so I promise to come back and see you. If, uh, if your Baba’s okay with it.”

“S’fine with me.”

“See?” Rhys chuckled, “And John will come back to see you too! Right, John?”

“Nngh.”

“He means yes _._ ” Rhys winked, earning a giggle from Harmony. She reached out her own hand and entwined her tiny little pinky around his and squeezed. The young brunette smiled fondly before standing and addressing Baba with a polite bow even if she couldn’t see it. “Thank you, ma’am, for letting us stay here. We greatly appreciate it.”

Baba waved a hand at him. “Just exchanging a favor. No trouble at all.”

With that Rhys turned back to see Jack watching him expectantly and nodded at him, signaling the older man that it was indeed time to get going. Jack had already compiled what little belongings Rhys had by the door, consisting of his sword and the leather jacket.

“Wait, Rhys!” Harmony suddenly shouted. Running back into the hut quickly she emerged only seconds later and scuffled up to the taller man, raising the object in her hands for Rhys to take.

He gasped when he noticed what the object was. “Harmony, I can’t take your doll.”

“Please, Rhys.” She whined, thrusting the makeshift doll at him until he had no choice but to slowly take it from her. “Cindora told me she wanted to go. She said she didn’t want you to be lonely.”

Stunned silent, Rhys held the raggedy doll in his hands. A lump formed in his throat. It was the sweetest most thoughtful gesture he’d ever been given, from an _eight-year old girl._ He had no use for a bunch sticks and rocks tied together, but to this child it meant _everything_ , was the closest thing to a best friend she had out here in the middle of nowhere. And to give it to Rhys….

“For the love of…are you _crying_?”

“No! Shut up!” Rhys barked back at Jack defensively, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt despite it. With a quivering smile he tucked the doll safely in his pocket where she could see it. “I’ll take good care of her.”

After another short exchange of goodbyes, with Harmony needing at least four hugs from Jack and Rhys both before finally letting them head out, they began their journey north.

However, as they made it not but ten feet ahead Jack stopped in his tracks. Rhys stopped shortly after, giving the older man a questionable look. Jack seemed to fight with something his head for a moment, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. Finally, with a deep scowl he mumbled a “screw it” and turned on his heel back to the hut.

“Are you okay…?”

“Yeah, yeah. Gotta do something first.”

Rhys watched Jack approach the old woman still seated in her rocking chair on the front porch, chiefing away at her pipe absentmindedly. She seemed to notice the approaching figure when she lowered her pipe from her lips slowly and raised an eyebrow.

“You need something else, boy?”

“Yeah…I do.” Jack stalked right up to her until he was towering over her. Confused, Rhys watched on as Jack reached for one of the holster’s strapped to his brown vest, pulling out one of his pistols, opened the chamber silently and pulled out a few extra bullets. He popped a few in the chambers quietly, jerked the chamber closed, and before the old woman could react the Hyperion ruler laid the gun in her lap.

“If all you have is a shotgun, you’re gonna need this too. Especially when it’s just you and the kid out here.”

The old woman sat still as stone, crooked eyes staring beyond Jack but attention consumed between herself, the gun, and the man standing over her, a confused frown etched on her wrinkled and scarred face.

After a moment of thought the old woman tilted her head up and knit her brows together. “And why would that be any of your concern, kiddo?”

“It’s not. So don’t get any stupid ideas.” Jack growled back. Rhys could see his shoulders were tight, his body tense.

Then suddenly…

“You’re eighty-three years old.”

Baba actually let out a gasp, fogged eyes widening as her hands gripped the armrests of her chair so tight it tilted the chair back.

She hissed out, “ _what_ did you say?”

“You heard me. That’s your age. And your maiden name’s Bolton.”

Rhys lifted his metal hand through his hair, watching in awe at Jack’s sudden actions; giving the woman that tortured his youth, that from the stories he’d heard had chained him up, starved him, beat him mercilessly, warped his young mind with nothing but terrifying stories and deep insecurities. To see that boy that became the man that was the ruthless Handsome Jack of Hyperion give that very woman the gift of knowing only but a small amount of knowledge that had been ripped away from herself so viciously….

“Oh, and one more thing.”

That’s when Jack’s hand slammed down on the back of the chair just beside his grandmother’s head, yanking the chair forward and as he leaned down he brought the woman’s face inches away from his own.

Okay, maybe Rhys thought too soon.

In a tone so low, so outrageously _vile_ and practically dripping with venom, he snarled in the old woman’s face.

“You cherish that child you got in there, you hear me, woman? Because trust me when I say…she’s literally the only thing you got left in this _fucked up_ world.”

With a harsh shove he let go of the back of the chair and turned swiftly on the balm of his foot, taking one long stride off the porch. Whether or not he noticed the way the old woman remained motionless in her chair, eyes wide and wrinkled lips quivering, her old body trembling from what Rhys could not determine if it was from the words Jack spoke or _how_ he spoke them, but it was blatantly clear that Jack could give a shit less.

As Rhys gaped like a fish at what he just played witness to, Jack strode back up to meet him, wrapping a strong arm around his shoulders and pulled him forward until his stiff legs were stumbling to catch up to Jack’s hearty strides.

“Jack…” Rhys turned to look over his shoulder, giving the old woman perched outside her hut one last glance.

“Hope your well rested, babe. Because we ain’t stopping until we get back to Helios.”

And just as Rhys had opened his mouth to reply in agreement….

_“zzzhhhhzzzhzhzzzzhbezzzzzzzcarezzful…zzzzzzoutzzztherezzzzzzhhhhh.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I captured the spookiness. :O And I know I said this chapter was going to be CRAZY, well... NEXT CHAPTER I ABSOLUTELY FREAKING PROMISE YOU that shit's going to get REAL.
> 
> Thanks for viewing! All comments welcome!
> 
> Until next time! :)


	12. Are We Almost There?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm so impatient. After reading all of your wonderful reviews and kind words, and some very interesting theories ;) I just couldn't help but work up another chapter. You fine piece of specimens are keeping my fire for this story brighter than ever! Thank you all so very very much! <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, now I KNOW I said shit is gonna get crazy. And it will! BUT! I had indulged so much so into the Desert Song that there were some very important plot points I had neglected, so this chapter is filling in as many blanks as possible. Because when I present the next chapter, EVERYTHING will come together!
> 
> So please enjoy the last chapter before all of your questions are answered! Enjoy!!!

To say the least, small Pandoran towns were… _fascinating_

And maybe that observation held a considerable amount of bias to it, considering Rhys was never raised on this planet, spending the majority of his conscious life on space stations, he was never brought up to understand the way a large group of people could coexist in a community with no other common goal than to just _live,_ and _trade,_ and just…exist around each other.

In space stations the most important goal each individual shared other than to live and eat and breath in space was to completely revolve themselves around the type of industry that the space station primarily invested in; ages five through ten Rhys could faintly remember the smell of a foreign fossil fuel, a sharp tangy bitterness, in the air and constantly lingering on his father’s clothes when he came home to their tiny metal hovel they called a home, the little square of personal space they lived in already paid for with half of the man’s paycheck by the time he got home, leaving just enough money to feed his small family.

Children were considered loud and distracting to the work on the station, and were to be quiet and stay by their mother’s side obediently if they were to ever venture through the station for some justified reason. The executives and aristocrats in higher management always held priority when it came to foods and other materials, then the lower level workers, and finally, the lower level worker’s families were left to collect the scraps of what was left, if there were anything left at all that is.

But in this poverty-stricken little town Rhys ventured through that day, he could not help but marvel at the little groups of dirtied up children running around and laughing, the boys playing something akin to _cops and robbers_ and the little girls curiously trailing behind.

The people would bustle in and out of the many connected shops held together by recycled steel, tin, and wood shake shingles, sloppily painted signs outside each shop labeling their purpose. _Food & Goods Trade Market, _painted red on a crooked rectangular board held together by rusty chains in front of the building. _Gun Emporium,_ neatly written in black ink, the aged lines of paint streamed down the sign a clear indication that the sign had been posted up before the ink had actually dried. _Doctor Copper’s Clinic, Flora’s Saloon, Mickey’s Bar & Grill, _and so many more shops lined down the main street of the town. Some of the townspeople did indeed look more well-dressed than others, but there seemed to be no sign of a hierarchy or something of a caste system. It was alarming at first, and Rhys couldn’t quite understand it, but once he realized that there was no _need_ for it, he found a deeper respect for these Pandorans.

Because there _was_ no primary goal like the appeasement of it’s one true function like most space stations floating out in the universe. No. The only primary goal Rhys could see in this town was to _live._ Live together, as a whole, everyone working together, trading food and materials between one another, to protect each other from the horrors that lurked beyond their tiny civilization. Everyone thrived with everyone else, no one being more important than the other. Every person Rhys had spoken to were friendly, introverted and albeit standoffish when curious eyes glanced at his robotic hand peeking out from the leather jacket he wore but said nothing about it, courteous to the young man nonetheless.

It was breathtaking to experience, a relief washing over Rhys like no other. Sasha had told him of places like this on Pandora, scarce and rare but beautiful to see and be involved in. She had told him fondly of a little town her and Fiona had spent their youth in, her stories describing a place similarly like the town he was currently passing through. To hear it was one thing, to experience it was something else entirely, and Rhys could feel a rich warmth pool inside of himself, like honey, warm and sweet, that engulfed him with emotions he hadn’t felt in…well, ever.

Was this what a comfortable, loving home felt like?

Through his journeys on this planet; fighting off terrifying monsters, mindless psychos, greedy ruthless bandits, and hearing the stories of successful town-raiding takeovers from dictating corporate companies, Rhys would have never imagined there would be places like this on Pandora.

And as the young Hyperion business man walked through the town, arms clutching his neatly wrapped brown bag of materials to his chest quietly, he couldn’t help the content in his gut spread a smile across his face.

 _There could be more of this,_ Rhys thought to himself. Yes, as long as there were people like this in this terror-ridden planet, coming together to find happiness and sustain a civil order, an industrial and economical revolution, the hopes of one day a _renaissance_ like no other, was _definitely_ on the horizon for this world.

Once Rhys made it the outskirts of the town he turned back to give the happy little community another content smile.

 _There will be more of this_. As long as he upheld the promise he made to Sasha and Fiona…there would be.

 

 

 

 

 

“Jack? I’m back!” Rhys called out to the desert, finally making his way a good mile from the town and back to the two large rocks he recognized as the last place he’d left his companion to head for the town Baba had been talking about.

They both knew the risk of Jack walking through a populated area; with his face slapped on every billboard and sign, voice broadcasted across the solar system for years, _the_ most popular being on all of Pandora, perhaps this whole _galaxy_ , people would literally need to have lived under a rock to not know who Handsome Jack was...unless his face was stamped on that rock, which was surprisingly likely on this planet.

A similar concern for Rhys to drift into a town unidentified was also considered, but with Rhys being Handsome Jack’s Personal Advisor for only six months, it would surprisingly take a longer while before any video feeds of him standing next to the Hyperion CEO or voice recordings and radio specials would go mainstream, would take at least a year and a half for people to know just who Rhys was, what he looked like, what he sounded like, his importance to the company. So in the end, it was Rhys that decided to venture out and grab the necessary materials they needed. It was also decided that Jack would remain at the two rocks just outside of town, waiting for Rhys to return. But as Rhys squinted his eyes and searched around the very area they agreed to meet up at...there was no Jack in sight.

“Jack?” Rhys tried again, and yet again was met with silence. A gust of wind whipped through the desert, picking up clusters of dirt to dance along the current. Rhys stepped cautiously around the rocks, straining his eyes in every direction for his partner.

After a few awkward moments of confusion and silence, the young man began to worry.

Where the hell had Jack gone?

“Jack!” This time his tone was more worried, impatient even. “Come on, man! Where _are_ you?”

Still nothing.

With every second that went by the more panic Rhys felt. This wasn’t like Jack to just disappear…Rhys wasn’t gone but a couple of hours! What could possibly have happened in that time span that the man would just vanish? Did he get bored and leave? Psh, of course not…he wouldn’t leave Rhys alone all by himself in the middle of nowhere with nothing but a sword and little belongings, right?

Right?

“This isn’t funny, Jack!” Rhys tried again, attempting an angrier direction than a panicked one. Jack was just messing with him, like always. His jokes and methods of teasing always stretched beyond reasonable, this was just another one of his attempts to find entertainment out in the barren wasteland. And Rhys was _always_ the gullible guinea pig.

With that thought in mind his eyes scanned the area around him with a furious pout. “I’m serious! Cut it out!”

His only reply was the echo of his words trailing across the desert.

_Oh my God, I think he really did leave me…_

No…no he couldn’t have just _left_ him out here. After everything…. The first question that thundered from one side of Rhys’ head to the other was; _why_? Why had he left him? _What_ reason did Jack have to drift off without him without letting him know what was going on, if he would be back, if Rhys should wait around or not, and if so for how long?

_Unless...he found out about something...._

Rhys quickly shook his head. That was impossible...

But it all boiled down to one ultimately crushing realization; Jack had left him alone. All alone, with countless questions, no answers, with nothing but what he had on his person, so out of the blue and without warning, it was…so fucking _cruel_.

“You _bastard_!” Rhys found himself shouting, throwing the bag of items down on the ground harshly. His eyes stung with the threat of frustrated tears. “Are you _serious_!? I…I can’t _believe_ you!? For what!? For _what_ , asshole!?” He wasn’t sure what he was saying and what it meant, but he could care less.

“I thought…I _thought_ …”

All at once the sound of abrupt movement happened right behind him, of a heavy force against the ground that rustled the dirt. Before Rhys could so much as react his sides were attacked by countless blunt points stabbing into his ribs.

“HE GOTCHA!!”

“Eeeeeuuhaaaaaah!!” A high pitched shrill ripped right out of Rhys mouth, body flailing like a wet noodle away from the offensive stabs, bodily throwing himself forward and managed to turn himself around on unbalanced feet. Panting, arms wrapped around his offended ribs protectively, he must have looked like quite the fool as he could only gawk at the sight of Jack, hunched over as his whole body shook with his loud bellowing cackles, one arm wrapped around his stomach and one antagonistic finger pointed at him.

_He…he was here the whole time._

“Hahaha! Damn, wooh, oohoho man! Shoulda…hah,” Jack managed between his howls of laughter, “shoulda seen your face! _Ooh no! He left me! Blaaargh!_ God, that was _so freakin_ worth it!” He slapped his knee and shook his head. “Damn, pumpkin. I got you good!”

_That…son of a bitch!_

“You…” Rhys could not _believe_ he had fallen for it. “That…that wasn’t funny, you ass!”

“Baby, that was more than funny. It was _hilarious_!”

“No, it wasn’t! It was cruel, and mean, and…and…! I can’t _believe_ you, right now!” Rhys shrieked, completely deflated and only growing angrier as Jack’s laughter continued.

Finally, after Jack had gotten his full at Rhys’ expense, wiped a tear from his eye and gave Rhys something close to a sympathetic look. “You’re really upset, huh?” Rhys replied with a mean scowl, folding his arms and standing his ground defiantly against the other man.

“D’aw, kitten, I was just havin a little fun! You really thought I’d just up and leave you?”

When Rhys didn’t answer, Jack rolled his eyes but kept the same goofy grin on his face.

“You shoulda tried _looking up_ , Rhysie. I mean seriously, I was right above you! I climbed the rock. All you had to do was look up, dumdum, I was practically right on top of you this entire time!”

To add embarrassment along with anger, confusion, and concern, Rhys fought in vain to keep the hot blush that spread to his face anyway, trailing to his ears and burning them. He tore his eyes away from Jack to gaze out into the nothing around them defiantly. Okay, maybe he _had_ chosen to flip out and panic before rationally thinking through the situation. But the mere thought of Jack abandoning him here….

_Don't forget the guilt of your secrets making you paranoid..._

“Babe, look at me.” Jack walked slowly to the younger man. Rhys didn’t acknowledge him. “C’mon, sweetheart, don’t be like that.” Damn that soft tone of his, low and sultry. Screw him! He didn’t deserve Rhys’ attention.

“ _Rhysiee_.” He cooed, like coaxing a child out of a hiding spot. It caused Rhys to twitch, but nevertheless the young auburn haired man stood his ground. Call it stubborn, but he was upset, dammit.

It wasn’t until he felt a strong hand wrap around his waist firmly, tugging him forward and into Jack. Another hand reached up to run a massive palm around Rhys’ throat, moving up until calloused fingers gripped his jaw softly and turned his face around until he had no choice but to gaze into steady blue and green eyes, watching him with an expression sincerer than he was used to.

“Baby…” Jack leaned in until their noses brushed, eyes searching Rhys’. “You just love making me repeat myself, don’t you?” When Rhys tilted his head in bewilderment, Jack huffed a sigh and shook his head.

“We’re a team, Rhysie. You and I. And I never abandon a team member. You understand me?”

Rhys opened his mouth to answer, to agree, to apologize when he suddenly realized how big of a skeptic baby he’d been, he wasn’t sure what would poor out of his mouth then, but before he could Jack captured his open mouth in a reassuring kiss, effectively swallowing any reply Rhys had and turning the words into hushed moans. _To hell with it_. Any prior frustration he had left quickly dissolved, quickly deciding that Jack’s kisses just had that affect. Folded arms uncurled and lifted to wrap around Jack’s shoulders, fingers playing with the back of the older man’s neck and running through the short hair. The hand on his waist seemed to respond to his movement, fingers squeezing into his hip, thumb inching over the waistline of his pants to rub circular patterns over the protrusion of his hip bone, effectively bringing him closer against Jack, bumping their hips together. While Rhys was focused on the hand clutching his waist, Jack took the opportunity to slide his tongue in the smaller man's mouth, dominating, ran across the grooves of his teeth, flickered across his advisor's tongue playfully.

They remained that way for a few long seconds, until Jack broke the kiss slowly, pulling back and giving Rhys a once over with glinting eyes, his pleased smirk a figurative stamp of approval.

“Glad to know we’re on the same page, kitten.”

And Rhys, eyes half-lidded and lips still puckered, only nodded in a quiet reply.

“Now,” and all at once the moment was over as Jack pulled away from the younger man and turned to pick up the bundled package forgotten in the dirt. He plucked it up from the ground and patted the dirt from it quickly, “I’m assuming this is it?”

“Um…what? Oh, yeah, they had a few left so I was lucky to grab it when I did.”

“Nice!” Jack barked, and proceeded to rip away the wrapping in a way that resembled a child opening up a Christmas present. Once opened, however, it seemed as if the figurative child did not exactly enjoy the present he got. Holding up the objects in his hands he turned to look at Rhys with a sudden scowl. “This is it? _This_ was all we got for trading in Rita?”

Rhys shrugged. “I tried to haggle for more, but the man at the Gun Emporium said that’s all he could give me.”

Jack snorted indignantly. “You kiddin me? Two canteens of water, some jerky, and a paper _map_ is worth one of Hyperion’s most highly advanced corrosive elemental pistols?” When Rhys shrugged again, not knowing how else to answer, Jack snarled and lolled his head back theatrically. “Ugh, _whatever_ , stupid scum suckers wouldn’t know a good gun if it shot them in the ass.” He tossed one of the canteens in Rhys’ direction and pocketed the other. With one hand gripping the jerky he used the other to skillfully unfold the map until it was fully spread and slapped it against the body of the rock next to him.

“Okay, so,” Jack announced, motioning Rhys closer with a hand full of jerky. Rhys stepped closer and regarded the map quietly. Immediately the words _Pandora Northwest Coast Section: N40C 12o 21e_ caught his eyes. There were four large sections of the coast; Ashes, Highlands, Dead Sands, and Frozen Wastes.

He didn’t have to guess which one they were currently stuck in, but at least now they had a good sense of where they were.

“The Eridium mines we were at before all of this are _here,_ ” Jack slapped his finger on a spot somewhere in the Highlands just north of Thousand Cuts. “And _here_ ,” he stretched out his thumb all the way to the very top of the Dead Sands, “is where our shuttle must have exploded.” He paused and brought the jerky to his lips, yanking harshly at a piece of the dried meat with his teeth and chewed. “See that blue line?” He asked Rhys as he chewed, “ _that_ is the Hyperion Transit.” He switched his finger to run along the small blue line all the way down until it stopped just short of the words _The Dust._ “I’m guessing that is where we were when we jumped off the train…or, well, where you were catapulted like a piece of fried _jerky_ and I jumped after your ass.” He winked at Rhys, who scowled at the memory.

“So if I’m correct,” Jack yanked another bite of dehydrated meat and shifted his index finger over by a few inches, “ _this_ area right here is where we are now.”

Rhys nodded along the entire time Jack’s fingers danced meticulously along the map. Jack’s sense of direction never ceased to amaze him. The entire time, all they needed was a simple, stupid map and in no time Jack could calculate where they’d been, where they were currently, and where they were headed.

“Okay, so what now?” Rhys asked.

“ _Now_ , pumpkin,” Jack swallowed his bite and grinned, eyes suddenly alive with newfound ideas, “we take _this_ curve around _that_ cliff, walk some miles south…and we’ll be in…” he paused suddenly, his voice fading as his attention zoned in on a particular location.

“…in Lynchwood.” As if realizing what he had said, a distance in his tone did not go unnoticed to Rhys, who gazed up at Jack to see his expression had faltered somewhat, the grin slowly melting from his mouth, a foreign flicker across his eyes gone as soon as it had appeared.

“Lynchwood.” Rhys tried the name on his lips. Why did that sound so familiar?

“Yup.” All at once Jack folded the map sloppily and stuffed it quickly in his pocket. He turned on the balm of his heel and casted his gaze outward into the desert. “There’s a private fast travel station in the middle of the town in the sheriff’s office. One of the destinations brings you directly to the Hub of Heroism. We get to Lynchwood, we get to Helios.”

Just like that, in about a day’s travel, they would be home, right in the heart of Helios. A strange mixed feeling of relief and excitement swelled in Rhys’ chest; imagine seeing all of the shocked faces of employees, sipping their coffees, eating their lunches, and conversing absentmindedly while their mispronounced-dead CEO and PA materialized through the travel station and right in the middle of everyone. It was almost funny. He hoped Vaughn and Yvette would be there at that time. He would run straight for them, embrace them tightly, he couldn’t promise he wouldn’t bawl like a child at seeing them.

As if Jack shared a similar thought, he chuckled loudly, “Ah man, I can just see their faces now! Oh, I hope Blake’s there, sippin his nasty ass coffee. Scrawny guy’s gonna shit himself. _Priceless._ ”

Both men shared a laugh at the mental image, rich and light and harmonious.

It was finally time to go home.

 

 

 

 

Or so they thought.

 

 

 

 

And then, only hours later, the most unexpected turn of events occurred; something so groundbreaking and unexpected it completely transitioned their expected journey toward Lynchwood.

To Rhys’ dismay, it _had_ to happen at the exact moment he stopped to take a piss.

He had stopped to find privacy behind a rock. Jack had gone on a little further ahead, claiming to have spotted something odd in the distance some ways ahead of them and decided he’d take that time to go investigate, leaving Rhys to a comfortable silence and a quick moment of relief.

Until Jack’s frantic shouts sliced through the tranquility around him, causing him to jerk slightly and almost piss on his own feet.

“Rhys! _RHYS!_ ”

“ _Fuck_! Wh-What the…Jack!? _Jack_!?” Rhys hurried himself, and as soon as he zipped up his pants he scrambled from behind the rock, eyes wide in alert and body tense. From far off he could see Jack sprinting to him, arms high above him and flailing like a madman.

“RHYS!!”

“JACK!!”

The closer Jack came the more Rhys realized that the man didn’t look panicked or angry or frightened. No, it was quite the opposite; a face splitting grin, eyes as wide as saucers, moving so fast through the desert it seemed unreal how anyone could run _that_ fast, leaving a literal trail of dust behind him. He almost thought Jack would barrel right into him when he didn’t stop, skidding to a halt inches in front of Rhys and clamped both hands on the younger man’s shoulders and shook him with a gusto, head lolling back and forth with the thrusts.

“Rhys! Baby! Cupcake! Hotcakes! I found it! I _fuckin_ found it!”

“J-J-Jack! St-Stop shaking me!” When he _finally_ let go, Rhys had to stop his world from spinning around him. “Jeez, I think you shook something loose. What happened? What’d you find?”

As if Jack’s grin could get _any_ bigger, he puffed out his chest and clamped his hands on his hips, standing as tall and proud as the many statues in Hyperion, dramatic and flashy as humanly possible.

“Our ticket home, kiddo!”

 

 

 

 

 

“So... what is it?”

“ _This_ , kitten, is a Travel Station.”

“Oh…. Wait, what?”

They’d only gone about a quarter of a mile out, Jack dragging Rhys behind by his arm the entire way, until they came to this; a random looking black rectangular box standing by itself, sleek and thin yet tall and mounted into the ground, a blank spherical bulb placed in the middle of the contraption. The body of the devise looked aged and worn from years of wear-and-tear out in the desert life.

Rhys blinked, watching as Jack hovered around it, poking and prodding at it anxiously. “But…I thought there was one in Lynchwood.”

“Screw Lynchwood, kiddo! _This_ will do just fine! All we have to do is get this baby working and _boom_!” Jack threw his hands out wildly. “We’ll be home in no time!”

“Really?” Rhys chirped, unable to contain the surge of excitement that bubbled up to his throat. It was all so sudden. Going from an unknown timeframe, to a day, and now to a single _moment,_ it brought chills to Rhys’ skin. Home…they would be home. His bed with all the comfy blankets and pillows, his hot shower, all the delicious food he could eat, endless supply of water. _Air conditioning!_ He’d have it all in minutes!

He watched with unrestrained excitement as Jack popped a small lid open on the side of the Travel Station and began tinkering with the wires and inner workings diligently, unplugging certain colored wires and plugging them back in, twisting cords, punching small buttons as if it was some simple task.

“Just gotta give her a little TLC… _aaaand…_!” He flipped the lid closed and backed away. Both men watched, quietly, unable to say one word as they waited for it to power up.

And so they waited.

“It’ll boot up any minute now.” Jack reassured.

Minutes went by.

“ _Any_ second now.”

Five minutes flew by.

“Just…taking its _sweet ass_ time.”

Ten agonizing minutes passed.

“Son of a _bitch_.” Jack lunged forward with a snarl, sailing his foot into the middle of the Travel Station and kicking it so hard the whole mechanism shook with the force. His actions tore Rhys out of his trance with a jolt, and he looked on as Jack stalked up to the devise like a hungry predator, circling it as if he was aiming for the killing blow. He threw a flat palm against the side, another loud slap resonating through the air around them.

Jack threw open the small lid on the side of the Travel Station and began fervently messing with its insides again, pulling wires, twisting, ripping, until he had his entire hand inside the body of the machine, digging through the guts and digging around inside of it impatiently.

“Why won’t this _fucking_ _thing_ _work_!” He barked, pulled his hand from the machine, and stood up taking a few steps back to stare at it in disbelief.

Disappointment and dejection heavy, Rhys could only slump his shoulders in defeat and rub the back of his neck awkwardly. He’d always been able to handle being let down. Jack on the other hand, never seemed like the kind of person that could take it with a grain of salt. Actually, thinking back on the man’s history, he didn’t seem like the kind who learned how to cope with having something right in the palm of his hand only to have it ripped away so suddenly after.

“Stupid piece of _shit!_ ” Jack suddenly shouted, sending another harsh kick at the dead object, then another, and another, until he was practically beating the machine. “Stupid, _stupid,_ fucking piece of broken, useless…!”

“Jack.” Rhys called out, walking forward with his arm outstretched.

“Just…” With one last kick, Jack hunched forward with his hands on his knees, exasperated. He inhaled deep, in and out, trying to catch his breath. “One freaking break…that’s all. Is it…” he clenched his teeth, “is that too _freakin_ much to ask for?”

The young auburn haired man placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. Once Jack steadied his breath he stood back up and looked at Rhys tiredly, a ghost of agitation still evident in the man’s eyes, but he seemed to have calmed down somewhat when he met Rhys’ small smile.

“Don’t let it discourage you. We’ll just wait until we get to Lynchwood.”

Uncharacteristically, Jack placed his own hand on Rhys’ that was still perched on the bigger man’s shoulder, giving a slight squeeze before stepping away into the desert, running a frazzled hand through his wavy brown hair.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. It just…this blows, that’s all.”

And suddenly, something clicked, and Rhys watched Jack strangely.

 _This blows? That’s all he has to say?_ No screaming fits of rock shattering rage? Not once did he reach for his pistol and try to destroy the Travel Station, or desecrate anything around them. Hell, he didn’t even lash out at Rhys. Where was the man that, if he didn’t get his way, would stop at nothing to watch every single thing around him shatter in a million pieces until his blind fury subsided; like a raging typhoon of destruction. Sure, he’d taken a few swings at the broken Travel Station, but compared to what the older man was capable of, his reaction was lukewarm at best.

Jack…was changing. Little by little, slowly but surely. It was a milestone in the development of who Jack was…or was becoming. Perhaps, after all they’d been through out here in the desert, from their first night together in that cave, the train, meeting his grandmother for the first time in so long, perhaps Rhys wasn’t the only one struggling with inner demons out here in this barren stretch of nothing.

Rhys just hoped Jack’s inner demons didn’t creepily whisper in his ears like his did.

He then decided to give Jack a few moments to completely cool down, in the meantime turning his direction to the Travel Station in front of him and regarded the broken machine with a curious arch of his brow. He _was_ a programmer, after all. He was nowhere near as good as Jack, but with a little patience and undisturbed concentration, he might be able to configure the damn thing to operate accordingly to its intended purpose, or at least get them closer to Lynchwood….

He stared hard at the Travel Station. _Think, Rhys, think harder…._

 

_ECHO EYE 2.1_

**_ANALYSIS COMPLETE_ **

_Travel Station_

**_Manufacturer:_ ** _Hyperion_

 ** _Make/Model:_ ** _TR4V3L 1N5TYL3 4.7K9E_

 ** _STATUS:_ ** _Inoperative_

 ** _DIAGNOSIS:_ ** _Copious amounts of Skag urine fried the cybernetics._

 

Ah, it was Skag urine! Of course, why hadn’t he thought of that before—

Wait…it couldn’t be…. Holy sweet mother of everything that was…

“…Jack…!” Rhys suddenly convulsed, the man’s name trembled from his lips, eyes flying open wide and blinking rapidly.

With a large exhale from his nose, Jack replied halfheartedly. “What is it, pumpkin?”

“ _J…J-Jack….”_ Was all he could choke out. Jack must have picked up on his quivering tone, and he turned quickly and regarded the younger man at full attention. “Rhys? What’s wrong?”

Head slowly turning until he met Jack’s stare, Rhys finally responded the only way he knew how that could answer the man simply without vomiting incoherent words. His cybernetic hand lifted and he opened his shaking palm slowly, and both men watched, utterly stunned, as a bright blue light appeared from the middle of Rhys’ palm, a rotating hologram of Helios appearing in the blue light.

 

**_Connecting to the HYPERION ECHO.NET…Connecting…._ **

**_…Connected…_ **

**_Welcome Back, RHY5-W1NZ.EXE_ **

 

In that moment the entire desert; from the blazing Sun above, the hot gusting winds, the dry air, harsh dirt below their feet, all seemed to just vanish, leaving nothing but Jack, Rhys, and the Hyperion ECHO Net.

Rhys heard Jack gasp, a _holy shit_ escaping his gaping mouth.

“I…” Rhys managed through his utter confoundment, “I…think I just found our big break.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! *slaps hands together* I hope you all enjoyed this, as it wasn't as action-packed than the last few chapters have been, but the next few chapters to come will explain EVERYTHING!! I will soon be adding more warnings and add'l tags and some update information, so stay tuned, and if you'd like to give me your opinion on how you think the next chapter is going to go, I would LOVE to hear it! :)
> 
> Thanks for reading!!


	13. Project Eden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I warned you, this was gonna get CRAZY. Harsh language and a lot of angst. A LOT of angst. Major plot points revealed in this one, guys. Also, this is just my take on a few things I've learned about the Borderlands world after playing all the games...continuously...if you have a different opinion on Jack's actions or anything of the sort, I completely understand respect that. 
> 
> By the way, as I'm sure you all know, I greatly appreciate all of my readers, those of you that have kept the fire going for this story. I can't describe how wonderful it feels to read each and every single one of your reviews. You guys are amazing, and you make this story come to life. It's an honor to write for such an amazing audience <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Da-da-da-daaaaa~~! After a long wait, I am FINALLY happy to announce the next chapter, and like I have said for the past, like, four chapter, THIS ONE RIGHT HERE. THIS ONE. Will be intense, as this chapter is the climactic intro into the next installment of chapters and welcoming the next arc of the story.
> 
> So get ready, because this chapter is LOOONG.

**_Loading Hyperion Interface…_ **

**_…Loading..._ **

**_…Loading..._ **

**... _”Hyperion welcomes you, RHY5-W1NZ.EXE. We ask that you do not utilize the public database for pornographic research, as our antivirus software is much too busy for your lecherous ventures.”_**

Had it been any other moment in Rhys’ life, he would have scoffed and rolled his eyes at such a snide remark made by the feminine automated system of Helios, what she-it was that commented on the everyday activities in one’s Hyperion-dominated life, chiming in with the most ludicrous comments when one least expected it.

But right now? God bless her sweet, antagonizing voice. If she were a living being, why, he would smooch her right on her smartass lips.

Watching the spinning hologram of Helios, Rhys felt hypnotized, thoughts seemingly scrambled over the distant plains. So much had happened in only a few short minutes, a supernova of emotions running through his veins like lightening.

The small hologram began to shake, and he realized his metal hand was trembling under the excitement of it all. He felt like leaping for joy, running up to the tallest mountain on Pandora and screaming his joy to the heavens until his throat bled. The sudden adrenaline rush felt positively _amazing_ , flowing through him like a splash of refreshing water, electrolytes dancing their way up his body and waking him up from his trance like stare at the little blue Helios in his palm.

Brown and blue eyes, wide and alive, glanced up and locked onto the blue and green eyes sharing a similar expression, causing Rhys to spread his lips into a bright grin. Apparently he was not alone in this momentous event, judging by the slack jawed expression and stone still stance of the older man in front of him, Jack seemed completely consumed in awe. Neither of them had spoken once, had yet to move or acknowledge their good luck.

That was when Rhys became aware that he had an opportunity right in front of him. This was definitely one hell of a golden chance to triumphantly let the world, and mostly Jack, know of how ridiculously awesome this was and how much of a badass Rhys was, even if he had no planetary _idea_ of why his cybernetics were operating correctly. Screw modesty, he’d take the credit for this.

With that in mind, Rhys decided it was time to gather his wits and break the silence around them. How should he go about this? Heroic pose first, definitely, followed by a grin that could rival Jack’s any day, and finally, with a proud declaration, he’d say something so badass that it would be quoted for years to come. He could just see it now; as the universe glistened around him, he would hold his head high with might. Jack would fall to his knees with so much awesomeness radiating from Rhys.

The thought was too tempting. He had to do it. Now or never. Rhys straightened his back and lifted his chin up, looking Jack square in the eyes as he opened his mouth to wow the man.

“Erghhem…” Oh yeah, that was one hell of a gurgled choke. The beautifully glistening scenery of the universe disappeared, and instead of Jack being blown away with the overwhelming amount of awesome, the man just blinked.

Maybe he should have remembered to breath first.

The next eruption of noise and commotion was not from Rhys, but from the bellowing roar that sailed clear across the desert like a shockwave, effectively scattering startled birds and sending nearby rodents and lizards into their burrows. Jack practically came alive in that instant, arching his back and throwing his arms out, his head aimed at the sky as he continued to expel his lungs to the world around them.

All at once the older man stopped and whipped his head forward, giving a very startled Rhys only a second to see the hysterical grin on his face before the man was tearing through the dirt at an inhuman speed. And with the strength that could match two able bodied men, Jack swung his bulking arms around the slighter man’s torso, enveloping metal and flesh arms and all, into one hell of a bear grip, ripping a wheezed yelp from the younger man as he was hoisted into the air and swung around like a ragdoll.

“RHYSIEE! Baby!” It seemed like Jack lost control of the volume of his voice as he kept shouting. “Love of my _LIFE!_ ” His larger body suddenly shook with laughter that reverberated through Rhys’ body. For a man of his age, Jack had some surprisingly pent up strength the way he swung the other man from side to side wildly. It was like an overexcited five-year-old on steroids.

“THAT’S MY BOY!!” Each shout was accentuated by the squeeze of Jack’s biceps.

“J-Jaahh,” Rhys wheezed through a now crooked smile, “Y-Yer crushing _mee_.”

“Ha! I know...! I mean, yeah! It’s great! IT’S GREAT!” After another few swings Jack finally released Rhys from the vice grip of his iron clutches and set him firmly back on the ground, his whole body still twitching with the once pent up joy now pouring out of the man with every feather dust of his hands on Rhys’ shoulders, removing nonexistent dirt and un-salvaged wrinkles from his shirt, consistently shifting from one foot to another. Those frenetic fingers then wrapped around the back of Rhys’ head and pulled him into a kiss so irrefutably rough it clanked teeth together somewhat painfully, lips caught between to bruise and sting. The older man’s lips worked against his own, and Rhys, completely taken off guard, allowed Jack to take his fill before breaking away to give the younger man time to gather his breath along with his vision.

Jack immediately struck a pose, arm stretched out and finger pointing accusingly at the giant space station hovering off into the distant sky, lips pulled back to show his magnificently straight ivory teeth in a twisted grin.

“YOU HEAR ME, YOU BASTARDS!” He screamed at the sky, “WE’RE COMING FOR YOU! That’s right! Rhysie and I, baby! My main man! My special boy! We’re coming, and when we get there, we’re gonna WRECK. YOUR. SHIT!!”

Rhys had never seen the man so excited before, and he gladly welcomed the joyous vibes that Jack emitted, letting them roam over him and allowing laughter to flow through and an excited smile so large his eyes squinted to make room.

“Wooh! Yeah! YEAH!” Jack continued to roar in a fit of rambunctious air punches and pelvic thrusts, which would be one hell of a sight for anyone who wasn’t used to seeing Jack any other way than threatening and murderous. It warmed Rhys’ chest as he watched Jack celebrate, an illusion of time reversing and showing what could be considered a younger Jack. The past few days had obviously taken a lot out of them, and Rhys wouldn’t be surprised if his friends asked if he had stumbled into a time machine and came back a decade older. But the reverse affects; a shining gleam of hope, closure, a happy ending, it brought back those years, rejuvenating battered skin and weary eyes.

It was time to go home…and it was about _fucking_ time.

Lost in thought, Rhys hadn’t noticed Jack had suddenly stopped his parade to advance on his partner, and it wasn’t until he felt trembling fingers envelope his face on either side coming to a stop on the nape of his neck, large calloused thumbs smoothing tenderly over his sunburned cheeks. He blinked out of his illusion to meet Jack’s eyes, his expression swollen with such pride and admiration it tempted Rhys’ heart almost out of his chest.

“You did it, baby.” Jack whispered, so different than the shouts from before; heartwarming and gentle. “I’m so _freakin_ proud of you, kiddo, I swear. You’re amazing.”

Rhys had to admit, he failed miserably at looking like the heroic badass at first, but the way Jack looked at him like he was everything in his world, the epitome of his happiness, giving him praises he’d never imagined would ever come from the man’s mouth, well…this was so much better.

“ _We_ did it, Jack.” Rhys said without thinking, caught in the moment between them. That earned him a giant smile.

“You’re damn right we did.” Jack laughed before leaning in and capturing Rhys’s lips in a softer kiss than the prior one. When he pulled back he glanced long and appreciative at the man he was holding.

“I gotta know, pumpkin. How’d you do it? How’d you get your cybernetics working?”

 _That_ …was a good question. Rhys had pondered it so briefly he hadn’t managed to put any more thought into how he so suddenly managed to get a connection to the Echo.net after all this time. He thought for sure after he’d have to visit the engineers at the cybernetics department to fix the internal damages that had been done. Despite the painful sensations and chopped voices through thick static, he was only graced with his motor skills and sight. The more he thought about it, the more puzzling this whole situation appeared to be, even if he was extremely grateful for it.

“I…” Rhys tilted his head and addressed Jack’s inquiry with a thoughtful look and an awkward chuckle, “I’m not really sure…I was staring at the Travel Station trying to think of a way to get it to work, and it just…started working. Before I knew it, I had already scanned the machine.”

“Really now?” Jack’s brows shot up, whether from Rhys’ confession or that he managed to scan the machine he wasn’t sure. Jack quickly glanced at the Travel Station and back to the younger man.

“What did it say?”

“It’s broken.” Rhys sighed. “Apparently a bunch of skags pissed on it.”

“ _Lovely_.” Jack snorted sarcastically, letting go of Rhys’ face to pat his shoulders in emphasis before turning around and stepping away. “Just one more thing I hate about this stupid ass planet.”

“But you know what!?” Jack instantly countered. “That doesn’t matter now! _Because_ ,” he paused as if to wait for a nonexistent drum roll, “ _we_ are going to send a sweet little message to those morons up there to send the next shuttle our way. _So_ ,” another dramatic pause followed by a clap-and-rub of his hands, “get that baby rollin, kiddo. Cuz I’m _itching_ to get the hell off this bitch!”

“Haha, you said it.” Rhys chuckled. He glanced back to his metal palm and focused on the welcoming page of the Hyperion Echo.net. While Jack paced around and babbled on and on about everything and nothing, Rhys logged into his account to check his files and messages. It seemed like forever since he was able to do so, eyes roaming over the information almost nostalgically.

And yet…

“All of my files have been wiped clean.” Rhys suddenly said aloud, earning him a sideways glance from Jack. “I’m checking all of my portfolios, everything that was stored from the past few months. It’s…not there.”

“Hate to bring you up to date, babe, but the entire world still thinks we’re dead. Remember? It’s no surprise that those idiots actually did something smart and cleared your account in case your head wasn’t blown to bits. You had some _pretty_ classified information stored up there.”

“Oh…right.” Duh, of course they would. If anyone on Pandora gained access to the information he had, it would no doubt bring massive devastation to both Hyperion _and_ Pandora. Rhys shrugged the thought off and kept searching, trying to reach the Requisitions Department. Yvette! Of course! He still knew her contact by heart. All he had to do was reach out to her, take a moment to enjoy how hysterical she would be from receiving a call from her once-thought-dead best friend, wait for her to send what was probably the most luxurious shuttle Hyperion had to offer – perhaps an entire _fleet_ of shuttles – their way.

However, the second he began to input her contact info, he was met with an error.

**_No Search Results Found Under Yvette._ **

Huh. That was strange. He decided to try the Requisitions Department.

**_Your Request Has Been Locked From This Account._ **

_You gotta be shittin me…._

Rhys searched a few more departments, taking alternative routes to various other search engines and even going as far as attempting to hack the Admin to override the restriction.

The results were all the same.

**_Your Request Has Been Locked From This Account._ **

**_Your Request Has Been Locked From This Account._ **

**_No Search Results Found._ **

**_“Why don’t you just try giving up, bandit scum?”_ **

Rhys took back what he said about the feminine automated voice. Smug, arrogant she-it devil….

“What’s up? You look pissed.” Jack called out after Rhys finally let out a frustrated growl.

“Nothing, just…they weren’t kidding about security protocol. Gimme a minute.”

 It was another five minutes or so of searching until Rhys almost decided he’d hit a brick wall. Normally it would be easy hack into other accounts – something he swore he’d never use unless in emergency situations – but even then he was running into issues.

And then…

**_RHY5-W1NZ.EXE: 8 Unread Voice Recordings In Your Mailbox._ **

The alert window had popped up so suddenly in front of him that he physically winced back from it, and found it peculiar that of everything he was now unable to access, he was given permission to check his mailbox. A suspicious notion crept into Rhys’ head, paranoia setting in immediately.

Something didn’t add up. No advanced technology on this planet could fathom the hacking skills that Rhys possessed. Modesty aside, the young man knew well he was one of the best hackers Hyperion had to offer, his knowledge stemming from years of available time in his youth spent heavily invested into it as a sort of hobby. For Hyperion to take such great lengths into making sure someone of his caliber and profession would be stopped short so easily, and yet despite all of this he was practically invited to read his voicemails as if it was practically an invitation.

Something was definitely off.

“Jack, I’m going to check my voicemails really quick.” after receiving an incredulous look from the other man he added quickly, “I’m just going to find out if they can give me any helpful insight on how to get through the security software.” With a heavy roll of his eyes Jack sighed and waved the other man off as he continued his pacing. “Whatever gets us there faster, cupcake.”

Slowly, with an unexplainable caution, Rhys opened his cybernetic palm to allow the holographic window of his voicemails. He opened the first one.

There was a moment of silence and slight static before he could hear a quiet voice sound from the built in speakers of his palm. And without a moment’s hesitation, Rhys knew immediately who the voice belonged to and his heart dropped painfully to his stomach.

_“….zzzzz…Rhys…?”_

His throat constricted painfully, mouth going as dry as the environment around him.

“V-Vaughn?” He croaked.

The static continued, and so did the voice. _“zzz..Rhys..I...I…”_

Just to hear Vaughn’s voice, even if it was automated and staticy, was like the melody of an angel’s harp. He missed that voice, he missed his friend, he missed everything about his buff little nerd bro, his sweet, gentle…

_“…you son of a **bitch**...”_

…obviously enraged best friend.

“Woah, looks like you’ve pissed off Mr. Universe.”

“Jack.” Rhys halfheartedly scowled, and returned his attention back to his palm.

 _“zzzzhhhyou stupid, brainless, metal headed idiot….I told you…didn’t I tell you-I-I fucking toldzzzzhh this would happen…zzzzzzhhh…you didn’t listen to me, you **never**_ _listen to me…and now look what’s hapzzzzzzz…”_

Vaughn never cussed. Vaughn never resorted to name calling, but Vaughn had never sounded so utterly devastated before, despair and emotional turmoil practically bleeding out of his voice. Rhys stood quietly and listened through the thrumming of his own heartbeat in his ears.

 _“…they said…they said there’s notzzzng left of you…the fire incinerated youzzzh body. I keep thinking it’s a bad dream…those nightmares I had after your implant surgery…”_ his voice cracked then, pitch wavering unsteadily, _“butzzzh can’t wake up…you’re not here to tell me it’s a silly dreamzzzzhhhhhhand I don’t know what to do….”_

“Vaughn…” Rhys let out whimper he didn’t know he was holding in, felt the sting of hot tears in the corner of his eyes. This whole time he thought of how wonderful their reunion would be when he got back, of grinning faces and joyous laughter, of gorging on pizza and beer in victory of their trio being brought together once more.

He’d never considered the inbetween; that Vaughn had no idea of Rhys being alive and instead let the news of their brutal deaths torture his mind as it spread throughout the space station like wildfire, obviously taken out of context and exaggerated for dramatic effect. While he and Jack were trying effortlessly at making contact, Vaughn was left in the dark with his own assumptions, to mourn his death alone and confused.

The earlier emotions of sheer happiness had instantly been ripped away from Rhys, the voicemail throwing him into a world of overwhelming guilt at putting one of the most cherished people in his life through such a horrible experience. He bowed his head low and heavy with shame, auburn locks of hair falling down past his face as he whispered back to the voicemail, “…I’m so sorry, Vaughn.”

“Man,” he could Jack whistle from a few feet away, “you definitely _destroyed_ that poor man, Rhysie. Damn.”

“Just…please, not now.” Rhys groaned quietly with a somber shake of his head.

“Play the next one. It doesn’t matter now, you can always hug and smooch it better later.” Jack was right, even it was a douchey thing to say. Finally, after some internal quarreling, Rhys stopped the track and chose the next unread voicemail.

The next message was from Vaughn as well.

_“…zzzzzzeen twenty-four hours since thezzzzuttle exploded…zzzzzhh…can’t stop thinking about it. But’s just mezzzz, isn’t it? Always the worry wart, the pessimist. I just…I don’t want to believe it, Rhys. Everyone is morning Handsome Jack…there’s thezzzzz tacky ass black banners all over the place and pictures of his face with flowers weaved around itzzzzzzzzhhhh but none of you.”_

“ _Well_ ,” Jack’s smugness to that was to be expected, but right now it only served to agitate the younger man, “I am pretty damn unforgettable.” Rhys rolled his eyes, but remained silent.

_“it’s not fairhhzzz you deserve it, too. I mean, it makes it harder to think you’re…there’s **no fucking** mention of you….like you never evenzzzzhhhhxisted. But you do…you did… **fuck**....”_

“God, this is sappier than my ex-wife’s soaps. Can we _please_ skip this stuff? It’s making my ears bleed.”

“Will you just…back off for a second?” Rhys snapped, harsher than he had first meant to be, but his nerves were raw and he was in no mood to listen to Jack’s whining while Vaughn was mourning to a _dead man_. Jack gave him a nasty look and a scowl, but thankfully chose to respect Rhys’ wishes with a huff and held his hands up defensively with a “fine, whatevs” before turning back to his pacing, which seemed to calm down somewhat than before.

The next two voicemail's were just like the last; Vaughn explaining what was going on around the space station after the incident, talking about old memories, choking up at certain parts only to rant on about how stupid Rhys was for the decisions he’d made that led up to this. Rhys listened numbly to each pained word, hating himself more and more when it seemed as though Vaughn was obsessing over his death, switching from present tense to past tense when talking to him, as if his best friend was caught in a loop of acceptance and denial. There were certain comments that would catch Rhys’ attention, causing him to pause and play back.

_“zzzzhh I haven’t seen Yvette. I don’t know how she’s taking it, butzzzzhzhhmust be pretty bad beczzause she won’t speak to me….”_

_“it’s cruel, the way they’re already campaigning for your replaczzzents...”_

_“everyone seemzzzhzh tense. I don’t know how to describe it, but…the workload’s suddenly increased. I pulled in more overtime today then I have in years…”_

_“It feels weird in this zzzzzzhzzhhhplace now…and not because you’re not here, but it’s like, the mood in the air has shifted…maybe I’m just losing it. I haven’t slept in a couple days.”_

_“I’ve been searchingzzzzzhhhhhrough files, I don’t know, but…I’ve had this bad feeling all of a sudden, and this morning I came in and half of our department was missingzzzzzhhh. You know Alvin? He’s gone. I asked about where they were, and they couldn’t tell me…they said stop asking questionszzz..z.z..z.zzz what’s up with that?”_

_“Rhys…something’s going on…I don’t think it’s just because Handsome Jack’s dead…I think…zzzzzzhzzhhh…something big is going on. There’s a lot of hushed words and closed out files now… it’s like everyone’s too scared to talk out loud.”_

The more Rhys listened to the voicemails, the less Vaughn seemed mournful and sad, replaced by more and more urgency and skepticism. He could agree with Vaughn on one thing; from what he was telling Rhys, something did seem very off.

It was until the fifth voicemail that Vaughn’s words turned haunting.

“ _Rhys….”_ The tone of his voice this time was stern, alarmed, and it didn’t sit with Rhys well.

_“This sounds crazy, Bro…well, I alzzzzready know I’ve turned rakkshit crazy, but just hear me out….”_

There was a pause in the recording.

_“..zzzzzhhhzhzhzhzhzzzz you may not be dead. I think…I think you’re out there somewhere, thank **God**. And if you are, I am going to beat the shit out of you when I see you next. But…first, if it sounds like I’m whispering, I totally am. I found some files hidden in your office, which has been completely closed off and guarded by military for some reasonzzzzzzzhzhh don’t ask me how I got in there. I’ll tell you later. Right now, this is **fucking** **big.** ”_

From a distance, Rhys could hear Jack’s pacing come to an abrupt halt, but the older man made no move to turn around or step closer. It seemed whatever Vaughn had discovered had peaked Jack’s interest as well. Knowing this, Rhys raised the volume of his echo.

_“……I think I know where half of our co-workers have gone. Theyzzzzzhzhh haven’t disappeared. They’re somewhere on this stationzzzzzzh getting conditioned….”_

Conditioned?

_“….chips, training, psychological and physical evaluations. No one’s allowed to talk about it, zzzzhzhzhz soldiers, Rhys. They’re turning people into soldiers…..zzhzhhzzzz…zzhzzzz…”_

Soldiers… for what?

_“…I found a bunch of blue prints…there’s these old ones I found in your desk, andzzzz the same I found online. They’re the same, but….they’ve been altered….”_

Something in the far regions of Rhys’ brain screamed at him to turn the recording off. A large knot of pure dread and fear found its way to the young man’s chest, his heart began to beat rapidly. His hands began to shake uncontrollably. Had he have just listened to the alarms sounding in his head he would have prevented the next chain of events from ever occurring.

It was then that fate took a very different, very awful turn.

_“…..Rhys..zzhzhzhzzzz did you..zzzhzhzhzhzz were you working on something? Something calzzzzhzhzhz”_

_Vaughn, no…._

_“Project Eden?”_

Never had anyone other than Rhys ever emitted those words before, to hear someone else say it felt so uncanny to his own ears. No one, not the engineers, the biologists, the botanologists, the ecologists, _no one_ he had ever hired to assist him with his private investment knew of what it was called that they were secretly gathered to work on. He paid them to work, and extra to keep them quiet. But never did he think that it was Vaughn, who was kept in the dark about the entire thing, who would be the next person to vocalize his three months of overtime into one name.

“…Project Eden?” And to hear it slip from Jack’s lips in question, a deep grumble of curiosity and suspicion, had Rhys terrified to no end.

_“zzzzzzhhhhzhzhzhzh…zhzzzzzhys…what were you planning to do with Pandora? Didzzzzzhh did Jack know about this?”_

“Did Jack know about _what_?” Jack turned his head to the side, giving Rhys one very narrowed vehement eye.

_“…wezzzzz’re you…oh my God, Rhys…you were going to go through with it…zzzzzzzzh for Sasha and Fiona…you were going to revolutionize Pandora…these blue prints…these are buildings and roadways….zzzhzhzzzzzhousing….greenhouses, facilities….Rhys…what the hellzzzzzhzhz…you didn’t tell Jack at all about this, did you?”_

Jack suddenly whirled around to face Rhys at that moment, staring directly at the younger man with an indescribable look, one of complete and utter shock parried with an anger that was obviously building by each passing second. His shoulders squared, stance solid and unwavering, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. It was too late now, had been the very second Vaughn had unknowingly exposed his biggest kept secret from the CEO of Hyperion. The truth was inevitable; Jack was going to find out one way or another, but Rhys wanted full control over it, had a concise plan to reveal his intentions in a way that would keep Jack sedated and understanding.

And that plan was now destroyed, leaving Rhys to opt for the worst case scenario; damage control.

_“.zz…I’m so sorry, Rhys….zzzz…they confiscated your ideazzzzhzhh turning into something monstrous. I’m looking at the new blue prints right now…allzzzof your ideas have been scrapped, but they’re using the funding, and all the help you hired…zz…they’re building camps…”_

Rhys forced himself to avert Jack’s gaze when he heard that last statement. He decided he'd deal with Jack later. For now, he needed to know…

 _“…work camps…oh my God…these are…oh my **God**_ **.** _Rhys, they’re taking your idea and building Labor Camps…Death Camps…zzzzzzhhh”_

An explosion, rivalling that of a grenade, suddenly sounded in Rhys’ brain, panic overtaking every sense of Rhys’ being.

“NO!” He screamed. His legs gave way at the knees, and the young Hyperion crashed to the dirt below. He gripped his hair tightly with his organic hand, fisting locks of hair painfully in a crushing grip that stung his scalp. He felt nothing, however, as horrible visions ran through his head. His peaceful world…his billions of dollars focused on making this planet a much better place…for everyone, to live together in a unified society…smiling faces, a first world without hunger and war, a future that Sasha could raise her children without fear, where Harmony could grow up to have all the finer things that the child well deserved…

…were all for nothing.

“Don’t you _dare_ ignore me, you little shit.”

And then there was Jack. It took all of his strength just to lift his head up to see him, his fogged mind processing everything around him slower than his body could react to, realizing with delayed alarm that Jack was now towering over him, had closed the distance between them in a blur, his larger body trembling with leashed fury, his shadow engulfing the younger man.

Rhys blinked slowly, his instincts now begging him to get as far away from Jack as humanly possible less he endured what was about to spring forth from the man standing over him, the Jack that he’d come to know out in the barren wasteland no longer here, replaced by the familiar tyrannical madman that he’d knew before.

Fingers clutched the collar of his disheveled dress shirt hard enough that he could feel the blunt ends of those fingers dig painfully into his sternum, hard enough to bruise as he grabbed cloth and skin, and hoisted him up effortlessly from the ground where he’d wilted. He was raised up, up, until his feet dangled off the ground, until he was higher than Jack and had to lower his eyes down to see him. Jack’s temper was infamous for bringing out a strength more fit for the CEO of Torgue, could put a tall man like Rhys in the air with only one arm without breaking a sweat.

When Jack was this angry, he was unpredictable. He was deadly.

A normal man would have died of fright by now, but Rhys…felt numb. Even as he was stared down by a vicious gaze, heterochromic eyes ablaze with indescribable fury eating him alive, he could feel absolutely nothing.

“You better tell me _right now_ , what that little _fucker_ is talking about.”

Slack jawed and dead-eyed, Rhys stared back at Jack wordlessly.

Jack waited, and when Rhys said nothing the older man snarled.

“Tell me…” he said low, barely controlled, “tell me it’s not true. That’s what I want to hear from you.”

“…”

“I _need_ you to tell me…” the fist clenching his shirt began to shake wildly, and Rhys knew it wasn’t from the weight of holding a grown man in the air, “that your little friend is delusional, that you haven’t been lying to me…that this whole _Project_ _Eden_ doesn’t exist. Look me in the eyes, _goddammit,_ and tell me you don’t know what it is.”

“…”

“ _Rhys_?!”

“P-Project Eden…” Rhys finally answered, in a tone so uncharacteristically stoic he questioned if it really belonged to him, “…started three months ago…to revitalize Pandora into a massive expansion of industrial growth, both economically and biologically—”

He never finished his explanation, as a powerful thrust sent Rhys flying bodily through the air several feet until he landed harshly on his back against hard ground. He must have landed _hard_ , as he could feel his body bounce off the ground with a shockwave, forcing the next voicemail to play on it’s own.

_“…zzhzhzhzhzz I just keep finding more and more about what’s going on…zzzzzzzz’s only getting worse. Zzzzzhzhvette, she was in on it. I didn’t know who else to trust, so…zzzzzzzzzhhhhhhhzzzzzzzrought it to her and showed her. She flipped out, Rhys. She told me everything….”_

Yvette… it was Yvette that sold him out?

 _“Plezzzse, Rhys. Please don’t hate her….”_ The tremble in Vaughn’s voice was clear as day, _“…pleasezzzzhz he made her do it…he manipulated her…”_

Yvette brought his idea to…to who?

“Doesn’t feel great, does it, you piece of shit.” Jack’s voice boomed across the desert, his footsteps shook the ground as he advanced on Rhys. “To be lied to… to be backstabbed by someone you _trusted…_ ”

The only sensible person Yvette could have sold him out to was Jack, but…Jack didn’t know, he'd literally just found out, was blown up in the shuttle, he too caught up in this just like Rhys was…so then…if not him, then who…?

_“zzzzzzhhzzhI knew we should have done something earlier about this…I knew I should have stopped you all those months ago…dammit, Rhys. People on Pandora are going to die in camps because of him.”_

Who…?

“Get up.”

Who was it??

“I said GET UP, RHYS!” Before he was given the chance, Jack dug his fingers through Rhys’ hair until his massive hand clenched around Rhys’ head, dragging him up by his scalp and ripping a painful shout from his chapped lips. He stumbled back when Jack let go with a heavy shove, stepping forward to close the distance again until they were inches apart.

“So it was you all along…wasn’t it?” Jack’s voice shook, surprisingly still trying to contain the monster he was seconds from becoming. He was still _trying_ to give Rhys the benefit of a doubt, even though his words spoke differently, his actions were controlled, barely, but the fact that he was showing any miniscule attempt at constraint spoke in louder volumes. His brows were scrunched, eyes flickering from anger to confusion to disappointment in repeat like broken record.

“You’re the reason why we're stuck out here…why we almost died in that explosion…why we’ve had to survive with nothing but the clothes on our fucking backs?! This was because of _you_?”

“Jack…” Rhys whispered, trying to find his voice through the tumult around him.

“Don’t you _dare_.” Jack hissed. He flinched, as if for a brief second he was going to hit Rhys, but right before decided to take a step back and inhale deeply. He looked to the ground, not able to look at Rhys for reasons that would probably be better for the younger man’s safety.

“ _Why_ …?” Jack hissed again, through gnashed teeth. “after all that we’ve been through…all that we’ve _done_ … _together_ …why did you chose to continuously lie to me—”

“I didn’t lie to you—”

“ _SHUT UP._ ”

Rhys flinched, but remained silent.

“You hid things from me…important things. And I _trusted_ you,” Jack’s voice began to take on a more hysteric tone, increasing in volume and pitch with every word, “this whole time…I…I don’t get it, Rhys…” just when the young man thought Jack would finally let loose he suddenly dropped his voice down to a low rumble, thick with emotions that he thought the man was never capable of until now.

“What did I do…please, _enlighten_ me, as to why you felt the need to keep _me_ of all people in the dark?”

And it suddenly occurred to Rhys that Jack’s unreasonable anger did not solely stem from his paranoia of being lied to, but a much more personal level than Rhys could have fathomed. Jack was taking this personally. And…why wouldn’t he? They'd gone from employer to employee to close friends and _lovers_ over the span of just three very long Pandoran days. A lot _had_ happened while they were out here…and Rhys was just now taking in at all in that Jack saw him differently, had opened up impenetrable walls and allowed Rhys in to see the man more intimately than most in this entire universe ever could and ever will.

His only excuse, the one that had caused him to hide Project Eden from him in the beginning, sounded so petty now.

“You...I didn’t think you’d understand….”

It was about the worst assortment of words Rhys could have thrown at Jack right now. And as soon as he let it slip out of his mouth, he deeply regretted it, because whatever restraints Jack had put on himself were now ripped to shreds as the man erupted like a seething volcano.

“Don’t _understand_?!” Jack all but screeched, throwing up his hands and curling his fingers in his hair. He turned around, took a step, and turned back around with the most incredulous look on his face.

“Who _the_ _fuck_ do you think spent _years_ of his life trying to bring order and establish law to this worthless ass ball of dirt?! _Well_ , Rhys? _Who?!”_

“That’s…not what I meant…”

“Oh… _really_? Then by all means, pumpkin, _tell me_ , what _did_ you mean? That I didn’t risk my life multiple times to get rid of the psycho bandit filth of this planet just so sniveling little nobody’s like you could gallivant around this _fucking_ world with no problem? I’ve fought and killed _Vault Hunters_ so people could sleep at night. I’ve wrangled _Vault Monsters_ so I could control this planet for a better tomorrow—”

_Sniveling nobody’s like you…_

“No you didn’t.”

And once that was said, there was no going back.

The desert became quiet. A breeze carried through, whipping at the dirt between both men before passing through with no concern at all.

Slowly, horrifyingly slow, Jack lifted his head to match Rhys' gaze with an unreadable expression.

“…What did you just say?”

“I…I said…” Oh God, what _did_ he just say? “I…I mean…you did, but…” he couldn’t stop the stuttering, words pouring out of his mouth like vomit. He was suddenly _very_ aware of what he had just said to Handsome Jack out of a split second of anger.

“But not this way…” Rhys countered suddenly as he caught onto a train of thought, “you did try, and…and you gave me this idea. I…I didn’t want to tell you, because I didn’t want you to shut it down, I wanted to _show_ you what it could be. If…” _dammit, Rhys. Keep going!_ “…if we can provide certain necessities for these people…roads, schools, jobs, food, if we can build and grow these things for people and show them the luxuries they can have for themselves, for their families…I think _that’s_ how we can create a better tomorrow.”

“Hyperion can be so much more than a weapons manufacturing company…if we utilize our strengths, money, capabilities, we can invest in so much more than just one industry…Jack…you used _fear_ as a way to reconstruct Pandora, and…I don’t agree with that. It didn’t work…you _died_ because of that logic.”

He was striking cords left and right with this man. At this point his death was very much guaranteed. Well, with that in mind, there was no use stopping it.

“Pandorans don’t need to be scared into a new future, Jack. They need to be coaxed, to willingly accept the change and learn to adapt. And that’s what Project Eden was about. To give these people a taste of what their lives _could_ be, not force them into it—”

“I’ve heard enough out of you.”

Cold dread froze Rhys’ words, effectively leaving the man apoplectic with growing fright. All he wanted to do was show Jack that there may have been a better way…that he didn’t have to pillage, murder, risk his own life for this planet when there were other alternatives. And in the end it did nothing, as when Jack began to make slow, sluggish, untimed steps toward him, eyes completely void of the earlier anguish and anger he’s seen swirling in their depths, he realized very quickly that Jack was about to kill him.

“Jack,” with every step Jack made forward, Rhys made one back. He held one shaking hand up in a weak attempt to stop him. “Please…Jack, _please_ listen to me. I never meant for this to happen…I…I never meant to hurt you…I was trying to help…”

Jack spoke with hollow words. “I’ve killed thousands to get this far…comrades, civilians…I’ve sacrificed some of the most precious things I will _never_ get back; my life, my wives, my own _daughter_ , and I’ll be _goddamned_ if I’ll let some quivering, stuttering, _pathetic, insignificant,_ little _pissant,_ try to tell me I’m _wrong_ , sweep my empire out from own _fucking_ feet and take it for his own.”

Take his empire? Where was this man getting these ideas?

“You know something?” Jack chuckled with a sort of psychotic amusement, “I really thought you and I would be magnificent together. We would do such great things. I let you in…and for what? Nothing. When we _fucked_ all those times? I thought it meant something…that you weren’t one among the rest that tried to inch in with ulterior motives. _That,_ is where I was so very… _very_ wrong.”

“You _are_ wrong!” Rhys shouted at the top of his lungs, voice cracking with a sob he never knew he had bottled up. Warm streams of tears fell down his cheeks, stinging the sun-burnt flesh of his face. Jack was feeding himself with his own assumptions, driving himself further away from his own sanity. Rhys should have thought this through, he really should have stopped and made it his first priority to get Jack as far away from his own delusional mind as he could. But the recordings, and Vaughn, and Project Eden turning into Pandora’s next Hell…he was distracted…and now his own negligence would be the death of him.

“You need to listen to me, Jack. You don’t understand….”

“ _Ooh_ , pumpkin,” Jack dropped his voice, a low rumble deep in his chest that rose up his throat to seep acidic venom from his twisted lips. His eyes were dead set on Rhys, however it didn’t appear that the man could look beyond his thoughts to _see_  him. “I understand completely. I really…” in one fluid motion the older man twisted his head from side to side, a sickening melody of pops and cracks sounding before he set himself straight, “…really do.”

In a blink of an eye Jack was on him, strong fingers gripped his throat tight enough to rip a pained yelp from Rhys, tugging him brutally forward on wobbly legs. Jack’s stance was offensive, shoulder pulled back and his other arm coming up to ball his fist. He paused at that very pose, holding it for what felt like years, silence between them, one wordlessly pleading the man to come to his senses, the other about to make a very drastic decision for the both of them.

“J… _Jack_ …” Rhys wheezed, his flesh hand raising up to grab weakly at Jack’s wrist, not knowing if he was trying in vain to pull the offending hand from his throat to relieve the immense pressure, or to give himself one last sensation of the older man’s skin against his own before he was beaten to death.

Whatever the reason, it seemed to impact Jack’s next course of action. He let loose a full body tremble, the muscles of his masked face quivering; his lips, his jaw, his eyes, all seemed to be fighting against the emotionless expression he was trying so hard to keep, the mask over his mask.

“ _Why_ ,” he hissed quietly, more to himself but loud enough for Rhys to hear, “why couldn’t _you_ be different from _them_? Why does _everyone_ I care about hurt me…”

_“.zzzzhzhzhzhhzzzzz…Rhyszzzzhzhzhzhz..Rhys!!”_

_Goodbye, Vaughn. I guess I never really will get to see you again…._

_“Rhys….there’s more…fuckzzhzIzhzhould have told you sooner…I wish I knew soonerzzzhzhzhzzz…don’t listen to them! Don’t listen to the voices, Rhys! Therzzzhzhzhzhzzzzzomething…zzhzzhhzzzzzout there…zzzhzhzhzdon’t listen to them! Get out of that fucking desert, Rhys!! Now! They’rezzhzzhcoming for you, Rhys….He’sssshhhzzzzzzz…”_

_“zzzzhzhzhzhzzzhzhzzzzzzhhzzzzzzz….”_

_“zzhzhzzzzzhzzzz….sup, ladies.”_

If there was anything further that could be added to this utterly twisted, psychotic nightmare that both men had succumbed to…the next voice to sound from Rhys’ amplified palm was definitely proof that things _could_ in fact get that much more twisted.

_“..zzzhzz..ugh,freakin static. Anyhoo, I hope you girls have enjoyed Pandora at its finest. Marveling little planet, isn’t it? Full of wonder and murder and wild freaky monsters. And if you’re listening to this message, then ooh-boy, congrats to you both for exceeding my expectations!”_

Judging by the look on Jack’s face; eyes suddenly enlarged and body stiff as he watched Rhys’ palm, that he was completely taken off guard, but strangely not quite as dumbfounded as Rhys. The grip on his throat began to relax somewhat, allowing Rhys to gulp in some oxygen greedily. His eyes trailed down to look at his palm through the gathered tears on his lashes, seeing no face in the holographic screen but too transfixed on the antagonizing voice to care.

It didn’t make any since. Jack was here with him this entire time, and these voicemail's were recorded throughout the span of their journey across the Pandoran desert. There was no way…it was impossible…

…so why was it Jack’s voice that both men could hear being broadcasted from his cybernetic hand?

_“Jackie boy, hahaha, I gotta give it to you, man, **you** are like my inspiration. Why, you ask? Well, lemme tell ya. You, Jackiepoo, are a great example why I never should have put myself back into that emotional meatbag you humans call a body. Now, don’t beat yourself up too much there, sport. It’s not your fault. Your little puny flesh brain is chalked full of too many emotions to think about the bigger picture. You know the bigger picture is, right?”_

Neither men made a sound.

 _“Right, of course you don’t. Let me slow it down for you so you can understand. When you chose to keep me in the Hyperion database after you were copied from me, I was touched. Really, I was. No joke. **But** , you made one very grave mistake. And **that** was assuming that I would stay here and be your little bitch machine. And…uh, newsflash; I’m no one’s bitch. Not even to myself. Sooo, I kind of…sort of…got rid of you. There’s a bigger plan in store for Pandora, and when you didn’t want to listen to me, I may have gotten a tad butthurt about it and planned out your death! It’s what we do, killer. Or, well, what you **used**_ _to do, before you chose to listen to the little angel on your shoulder and to your **heart** and decided to be more **humble** and **forgiving** to the world. Yeah, I’m not about that life. I’m an AI, remember? I don’t technically have that. It’s a great feeling to be programmed with nothing but sarcasm, dick jokes, and bloodthirsty vengeance. Sorry you chose the latter.”_

No…It couldn’t be…

_“Oooh, Duh-Doi! I almost forgot to give a **special** shout-out to my main man, Rhys. Because of **you** and your little plans to bring rainbows and sunshine to that filthy little planet, I didn’t even have to start the mapping for my plans! You gave me a head start! Thank you, little buddy. I owe you one. _

_“Anyway, I shouldn’t keep you girls from whatever it is you’re doing out there, so I’m gonna go back to prepping my soldiers, building my death camps, and most enjoyable of all; exterminating those little pests that have been trying to stop me for the past few days. What’s their names…lemme think…c’mon Rhys, help me out…ah! Vaughn. Sasha. And Finelli…no, Phoebe, shit that’s not right either..Fiona! That’s right. Yeeeeah, I’m gonna slaughter them all over this freakin space station. I’ll be sure to get all that on film. I know Rhys would just **love** to see that! Mkay, I’m gonna go. Have fun dying, kiddos! Oh....haha, sorry, one more thing...."_

_"...say hello to the voices for me, Rhysie. Ciao!”_

The voicemail ended abruptly, leaving both men silent to dwell on just how much destruction they've brought about their shattered worlds.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've warned you all before, I love making my characters suffer, and sadly...I"m not done. Because it's only going to get worse for Jack and Rhys :( 
> 
> I will say one thing...I may or may not have explained the Desert Song. It's up to you to decide at this point, but that will continue as the story progresses. ;D
> 
> Thank you all so very much reading, and all comments are welcome!


	14. Our Empire of Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After all of the AMAZING reviews, I could not help myself. This was supposed to be only a small section of the next chapter, but I was too impatient. You're wonderful reviews had me itching to give you more! I had to!!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I said it was going to get worse, I meant it. :( I didn't enjoy writing this chapter, so forgive me! It's just getting more and MORE angsty!
> 
> Warnings - harsh language and violence. Also, Jack and Rhys might be a little OOC in this. Viewers be warned!

Gears were churning.

At least, that’s what they felt like; the thoughts in Rhys’ head. Slow, as the grooves fit so did the pieces of his logical reasoning over the revelations that had so suddenly taken place.

It was amazing how one simple idiom could feel so accurate. He could practically taste the rust on his tongue.

Well, technically that was the blood when he bit the inside of his cheek from being thrown to the ground. Nevertheless, it only fueled the comparison. Rough, old, churning gears, leaving Rhys with a suspicious notion that something was missing, an important key factor in all of this.

The gears worked harder, a momentum carrying the thoughts forward at an exponential rate, until they were at full force. Everything made sense now, unfortunately.

Rhys’ flesh hand, still wrapped around Jack’s wrist as the man’s fingers remained wound around his bruised throat, clenched down on the wrist and squeezed with a new found rage. Teeth that were once gnashed in pain were now grinding with unyielding fury.

“Y-You…” The younger man managed to hiss out, looking straight at Jack whose attention was still on the metal hand limp at his side. “You...” he tried again with more volume and strength, “…said you got r-rid of him.”

Seconds passed, and when Rhys received no response out of the silent man he let out a pained breath. His cybernetic hand twitched under the older man’s gaze, a phantom sensation of additional weight on the metal appendage from the man’s ardent fixation; eyes locked, but glazed over with unforeseen thoughts, a film role he watched distantly.

Screaming metal sounded in Rhys’ head, drilling into his temples.

Like grinding gears, metal against metal.

Finally, with little trepidation, Rhys finally realized what the grinding metal in his head was.

Implacable anger. For the first time in his life, Rhys felt a fury that he’d never experienced, never even knew he was capable of. It boiled over, it drowned his senses one by one, and engulfed him in a blinding, vivacious rage.

That same rage had eventuated to a sudden and abrupt thrust of his cybernetic hand, fingers wide and palm flat, sailing the metal appendage upward to collide with Jack’s sternum, causing a series of reactions from the bigger man; the second metal met flesh and bone Jack’s eyes widened, lips exhaling the air that was viciously ripped from his lungs, shoulders jolting forward as his torso sailed back from the force, the man’s legs stumbling back clumsily to balance himself from the impetus that sent him falling back.

The hand that was once wrapped firmly around Rhys’ throat was now clenched around the middle of his own chest, nursing what must have been a serious pain if the exasperated coughing fit was anything to go by. There would definitely be a nasty bruise there.

Now would have been the time for Rhys to realize what he did, that he had just _struck_ Handsome Jack with brutal force, that by now the anger would have surely diluted and allowed anxiety and regret to take over, leaving the young brunette to tremble out endless apologies. But the rage was still very much alive, and it yearned for more. Rhys’ fingers twitched, his skin prickling with goosebumps. He took a daring step forward, eyes locking onto Jack’s own with a hateful glare.

“You…” fury burned each word that slipped through his quivering lips, “you told me you got rid of him. That day in the office…you looked _right_ at me and told me that you wiped him from the database.”

“So _why_ …” he couldn’t even gauge his next choice of words as they bled from his mouth, “ _why_ is he still here?”

_“Rhys, they’re taking your idea and building Labor Camps…Death Camps.”_

Jack had surprisingly stayed quiet throughout the entire ordeal, hand still clutching at his chest as he heaved gulps of air in and out of his lungs. His face was distorted in either pain or anger, Rhys wasn’t sure, but at that moment both men stared at each other with a rivaled expression. And when Jack finally decided to speak, Rhys had decided at the very same moment that he didn’t give a shit about what Jack had to say to his question.

“I think you broke a few of my ribs—”

“You LIED to me, Jack!” Rhys screamed with a theatrical flail of his limbs. “Hypocrite. You made _me_ take the blame for all of _this_ ,” he waved his over the desert scenery around them, “to think that I was the reason why my friends would be _murdered_ , that my ideas would turn my coworkers into _mindless_ _soldiers_. Pandoran civilians…women, children, the elderly, they will all be sentenced to a _horrible_ death….”

Rhys had to pause, to steady his breathing as the telltale signs of a panic attack were creeping up on him.

“…this is all your fault.”

“Don’t be petty, you little shit.” Whatever trance had hypnotized Jack during all of this had finally worn off, and he snarled at Rhys with just as much vehement as the younger man’s accusing words. He lowered his hand from his chest, straightening himself out to stand taller, holding his ground against his hysterical partner.

“You want to blame _me_ for hiding all those little bullshit secrets of yours. Fine, whatever makes you happy, _princess.”_ Jack spat.

Rhys immediately countered with an indignant hiss of his own. “You kept that… _that_ ” he pointed upward to the distant space station orbiting around the planet, “from me. You of _all people_ should know how dangerous he is!”

“Me of all people?” Jack pointed to himself incredulously, “I wasn’t the one who brought him back to the fucking space station and downloaded him into the _fucking_ system, you dumbass!”

From then on, the argument became a pissing match.

“You want to throw that in my face _now_?” Rhys almost _laughed_ , thinking back to the other night when Jack had thanked him, had told him with utmost sincerity that if it wasn’t for him, Jack would have never gotten his second chance in this world. The irony was cruel, and it hurt far worse than when the man had a vice like grip around his throat.

“You know what?” Rhys couldn’t control himself, “maybe I shouldn’t have. _Maybe_ I should have listened to them; to Vaughn, and Sasha, and Fiona. I should have ripped you out of my head and crushed you. If I did, _you_ wouldn’t be here. And _they_ wouldn’t have to _die_!” Jack’s eyes enlarged for a fraction of a second at Rhys’ sudden outburst. They were words that obviously stemmed from the younger man’s mindless anger, but regardless, they were words Rhys would never be able to take back and remove the hurt hiding behind Jack’s crumbling resolve.

“So _finally_ the truth comes out, eh kiddo?” It was Jack’s turn to laugh, a hollow chuckle far from anything remotely humorous. With a deep breath the _ex_ -CEO closed his eyes. When he opened them, slowly, Rhys could see nothing but pure, dark credence.

“Okay…let’s talk some _truth_.” Jack sneered, advancing on Rhys with timed steps, a cartoony way about him that mocked their entire situation. “The _truth_ , dear Rhysie, is that I did in fact keep that AI psychopath in our system after I was cloned from him. The _truth_ is that for reasons your toddler brain could never comprehend, I didn’t remove him.”

“You’d _never_ be able to understand,” Jack continued to seethe, “what that AI has over me, the lengths I had to go to keep him alive when I _desperately_ wanted to rid myself of him. I had to _live_ with that shit in my head for months, listening to the sinister shit he’d whisper. _You_ of all people should know the kind of words he could wedge into your brain; make you question yourself…make you question…” Before Rhys could grasp the man’s tangent, the meaning behind how far the topic had spiraled in a direction that seemed like Jack himself couldn’t get a grasp of, as the man’s words were beginning to drift unsteadily, as if the he didn’t understand what he was suddenly talking about.

“Make you question your existence…” Jack’s stare began to glaze into the distance, his words trailing along after them, “who you _are…”_

In the pique of Rhys’ temper he realized too late that he’d succumbed to his anger wholeheartedly, let it take the reins of his mind, and of his mouth, forcing him to give no acknowledgement to the fact that perhaps the man was hinting at some inner turmoil he didn’t have the strength to truly grasp, an unspoken cry for help. Knowing but not truly realizing this, what Rhys decided to say next would drift through the air, stunning both men completely.

“The _truth_ is, that he made you feel like just another _sniveling nobody_ among the rest of them, of _us_ ,” yeah, he’d throw those words _right_ back into the man’s face. “How does it feel, _Jack_ , to get backstabbed by _Handsome Jack_?”

Jack said nothing.

A more rational side of Rhys begged him to stop. And for once, he ignored it. “Welcome to the fucking club, asshole.”

He _really_ should have stopped, but he _really_ wanted to keep going. He wanted to hurt Jack, to selfishly make the man feel the same pain Rhys was currently enduring. But he was never a man that resorted to physical violence or abuse. But with words, he firmly believed, one could destroy someone and get the same satisfaction.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned the man’s silence, prodding it with a hot antagonizing iron. Rhys didn’t even sound like himself, for the venom laced words that came next were more sinister than he could ever think he was capable of spewing. “Don’t like being on the opposite side of the fence? The one filled with people you dragged through the _fucking_ dirt and left to rot?”

“Shut your fucking mouth, Rhys….”

“Hah, or _what_?” Rhys spat, for the first time _ever_ challenging the man he’d always respected, feared, had come to know more intimately than anyone, had grown to _care_ for. Those feelings, they all felt so distant now.

Anger was truly an overwhelming, blinding emotion.

Rhys opened his arms out with a drained expression, a pose that exposed everything to Jack, his body, his emotions, what they’d gone through in the last few days, wanting the man to _see_.

“You’ve put my loved ones, this whole _world,_ in jeopardy, and _I_ will live with that until I _die_. But this must be nothing new to you, huh? So used to destroying the worlds around you. And now you’ve destroyed mine. You can’t do any more damage to me then what you’ve already done. So go on… _kill me_. Strangle me, _please_ , do me a _fucking_ favor for once in your terrible life and get me _the fuck away from you!”_

 _“….such hatred…..”_ In the midst of the commotion around him, _that voice_ decided now of all times to float around Rhys’ head.

It was not long at all after the young man had screamed those words that he felt his body collide with an unstoppable force, a large weight knocking him to the ground and keeping him there. In a tangle of limbs and rustled dirt Rhys and Jack found themselves in a grappling match of flailing fists, growled threats, snarls, fingers digging into flesh and ripping clothing.

_“…fighting…like animals in the dirt…”_

“Fuck you, Rhys!” Jack growled, sailing a fist directly at Rhys’ face, who tilted his head just in time before the impact and causing Jack’s knuckles to bust against the hard ground beside his head, forcing a cry of pain from the older man. Rhys utilized Jack’s sudden distraction for his own gain to wrap his metal hand around the other man’s throat, squeezing hard but not enough to crush his windpipe. The only sign that Jack was fazed by the hold was a wheezed grunt, stunning him only a fraction of a second before Rhys felt a blunt knee ram into his stomach that ripped a painful shout from the young brunette.

“I’m…” Jack wheezed between strangled breaths, “…tired of…ergh, being blamed…for _his_ actions….” Through the fumbling, the fists, the harsh kicks, the dirt and the blood, Rhys barely made out what Jack was saying. “You don’t…know what it’s like…you _bastard…_ to be reborn in a world where you carry the _fucking_ toll of _his_ crimes on your back.”

The rolls reversed, as Rhys thrusted one long leg up to send a powerful heel into Jack’s spine, taking the man’s moment of pain induced weakness to pull his weight to the right, rolling them over until Rhys was straddling Jack’s torso, thighs effectively trapping the man’s legs underneath him and preventing any further kicks. With a strength Rhys never knew he had he clenched his organic fingers into the man’s right bicep, attacking the muscle directly and stunning the entire arm useless. That left Jack’s left arm exposed to shoot up and grab the younger man’s jaw in an iron grip, large fingers digging into his face painfully.

“You think…” Jack hissed through the crushing force on his throat, words pouring out hoarse and tight, “you think you did me…a _favor_ by bringing me back? _Fuck you_. Had I…known I’d have to carry the burden…of _his_ fucked up decisions…I’d rather off be _dead._ ”

“W..what?” Maybe it was the exertion of their fight that had exhausted the fury from Rhys, or the strange confession coming from the man below him, but those words finally got through to Rhys, had caused his grip on Jack’s throat to lessen, his movements becoming less ferocious and more reluctant. “What…what are you saying?” Rhys winced as he spoke despite the fingers that held his face with an excruciatingly painful hold. He had to know…what the hell was Jack saying to him right now?

“What does it matter to _you_?” Jack spat, “you’d never understand…what’s it’s like…to not know who the fuck you are anymore!”

Like an electric shock surging through Rhys, he was struck with a realization that expelled all the hostility from his body, leaving the taller man completely deflated, the rage that coursed through his body now long gone, replaced with a void that this new information was quickly trying to fill.

Why did it take so long for Rhys to realize Jack was battling a war inside himself bigger than any one he’d… or maybe not him…had ridden this world with? For six months since the day Jack was given his new body, his personality copied from the very AI that had left them to die out here in the wasteland, Jack was… _Jack,_ in the way he walked, he talked, carried himself proudly around Helios with the same mannerisms and personality, the same clothes. It was easy to consider he would quickly replace the first tyrannical madman that had dictated this planet and ruled the largest gun manufacturing company in their known region of the universe.

But _this_ Jack wasn’t _that_ Jack, if that made any sense at all. And sadly, at the worst time to realize it…it did make sense.

Handsome Jack had been dead for years, brought down by Vault Hunters along with The Warrior in the crater of that volcano so long ago, taking with him the sins he’d committed against humanity, Pandora, his loved ones…only to be brought back to crucify the copies of him that were made after his legacy.

AI Jack…the Jack laying sprawled on the ground beneath him…were all copies of the real one. The first rule about clones was that they never came back as perfect replicas of the original. He wouldn’t use the term _flawed,_ but _different_ was the closest word he’d use appropriately. No matter how advanced technology could get, playing God was still an imperfect science. And it seemed very clear that Jack knew this about himself well, could only take on so much of the responsibility and burden of what the original Handsome Jack had left behind before it misconstrued his reality.

Hell, even Rhys had accused this Jack of the crimes that, technically, he hadn’t personally committed.

Confoundment quickly turned into a heavy contrition that dropped to his stomach like heavy stones. “Jack…” Rhys let out a breathy whisper, suddenly feeling like the biggest asshole on this entire planet.

“Don’t you _dare_ look at me with…with _pity_ , you son of bitch!” Jack roared, ripping his right arm from Rhys’ hold and put both hands on the younger man’s collarbones, shoving him with such force that Rhys lost his balance and fell off the man and onto his back. He scrambled back up quickly to ready for Jack’s next reaction, but froze instantly when the air around them changed rather drastically.

The first thing Rhys saw when he lifted himself up was Jack’s new expression; utterly aghast as his wild eyes scanned the scenery behind Rhys. It had taken only a second to inquire the man’s sudden alarmed look, before his eyes caught movement from behind Jack, his ears picking up strange _growling_ sounds shortly after.

Now it was Rhys’ turn to stare alarmingly at the new presences around them.

While they had been grappling in the dirt, a posse of Alpha Skags had surrounded them, a synchronized circle formed around them comprised of giant, vicious looking beasts standing only feet away from them, their large bulking frames crouched and ready, irregular shaped mouths open and panting, emitting low warning growls and high pitched whines.

“Oh… _oooh_ shit.” Rhys gasped, finally finding his voice and with a sudden twirl of his body to peer behind him, he found that he was _very_ close to the other end of the circle of predators, coming face to face with one of the Alpha Skags. He must have accidentally taken it by surprise, for the massive beast unhinged its jaw and let out warning bark, blowing hot rancid breath in his face and strangled yelp from the man’s throat. Quickly he used his hands and feet to scurry backwards and away from the alien animal, almost bumping into Jack.

“Quit moving.” Jack hissed low under his breath, “don’t make any sudden actions…they’ll pounce if you freak out.”

Arguments and differences aside, Rhys nodded quietly and did exactly as Jack instructed, keeping his eyes on each and every one of the skags who surrounded them.

Rhys knew nothing about skags up close, knowing only what he had seen from his prior visits to Pandora, only seeing them roam in packs in the distance. From books he’d read about them the smaller average skags acted something akin to meerkats; skittish and cautious animals, coming out of burrows once the action was over, coming out to drag away the dead and rotting to feast on like vigilant vultures. They were, for the most part, harmless creatures that seemed only threatening in large packs.

Alpha Skags were an entirely new and unknown dilemma to Rhys. As the stories go, they were three times the size and strength of a normal skag. Instead of rough hairless leather their skin was layered in calloused armor considered to some as tough as steel, _lead proof_ as the Hyperion soldiers would say. Completely opposite to their smaller relatives, these beasts were not skittish, they did not hide from danger and wait for the leftovers. They were extremely aggressive, and would not hesitate to tear into a reinforced building just to get to their next meal on the other side.

And they were currently surrounded by _at least_ twelve of these terrifying Hell-spawns.

Rhys’ lungs constricted painfully, and he suddenly found it difficult to breath past the panic flooding his chest, listening to his heart thudding against his ribcage.

_“…zz…look closer, Rhys…”_

Why now…why at this very moment did that voice decide to chime in? He shook his head to rid himself of it. There were too many awful events currently going on already, he didn’t need to remind himself of his own insanity. What he neglected to consider, however, was that the voice sounded clearer than it ever had, the static no longer apparent in the words it whispered through Rhys’ head.

_“…look…look closer…”_

Look at what? What was supposed to look for…. And then he saw it, a black strip the width of two fingers looped around one of the skag’s neck. The bottom of the band just under the animal’s neck he could see something reflecting the Sun’s rays, dangling down and…flashing red?

Instantly his Echo eye came to life with a single blink, locking onto the object and zooming in on it, already booting up a quick scan.

**_ECHO EYE 2.1_ **

**_ANALYSIS COMPLETE_ **

_GPS Tracking Collar_

**_Manufacturer_** _:_   _Unknown_

 ** _Make/Model_** _:_   _Unknown_

 ** _STATUS_** _:_   _Operative_

 ** _FUNCTION_** _:_   _Global Positioning System, Data Pusher, sending coordinates to primary server_

That couldn’t be good.

Another consistent flash caught the right of Rhys’ peripheral, and after hesitating whether or not to take his eyes off the skags he finally peered over the at the offensive blinking.

As if irony could not be any crueler, it felt like a spit to the face. That _damn_ Travel Station was working, sides spread out emitting some strange blue aura, red bulb once dim and powerless now blinked a bright mocking red.

The worst of it all, was what his Echo eye reported upon its automated scan.

**_ECHO EYE 2.1_ **

**_ANALYSIS COMPLETE_ **

_Travel Station_

**_Manufacturer_** _:_   _001H4CK3D010_

 ** _Make/Model_** _:_   _001H4CK3D010_

 ** _STATUS_** _:_   _001H4CK3D010_

_001H4CK3D010_

This was not good at all.

“What…what the hell is going on?” Rhys chanced a glance behind his shoulder, watching with growing anxiety as Jack watched the Travel Station with a grim expression, eyes burning holes into the traitorous machine. That look meant nothing promising.

“Shoulda known…” Jack whispered, more to himself than to Rhys, “…a fucking trap.”

“A _trap_?!” Rhys shouted, wincing when his outburst earned him some angry howls from the pack of skags. He dropped his voice to a whisper, “what do you mean a trap? That thing’s been hacked to control these skags?”

Silence rained down of them, Jack tightening his jaw in thought before his next choice of words. “It’s not controlling them…it keeps track of their individual locations, and sends the information to the server.” Jack’s eyes flickered out into the desert beyond Rhys and the skags, eyes locking onto something miles away and narrowing in on whatever it was. Ignoring his own warnings from earlier he began to stand, still maintaining a slow pace in caution of the beasts around them. Despite how calculated his movements were the Alpha Skags let out a unison of hisses and growls, but made no move to advance on him.

Rhys took the opportunity to do the same, taking the less slow route and instead scrambled up hurriedly, ignoring the barks and yowls he received to join Jack’s stiff stance, his shoulders set tight and head a loft, hand raised over his eyes to block the Sun from his eyes.

The younger man followed his train of sight out to the distance to see whatever it was that had Jack so alert.

And he immediately wished he hadn’t.

First Alpha Skags, and now quickly approaching, heavily armored desert buggies? Could fate take any bigger of a shit on their lives right now?

“Skag Pirates.” Jack said, unknowingly answering Rhys’ thought up inquiry.

 “ _Oookay..._ okay…. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. _Shit._ ” He was hyperventilating. Fuck the resolve, this was happening. From every direction there appeared to be no way out, no miraculous escape route that would guarantee even a shred of salvation. They were trapped. Any sudden movement, a chance to break free and get far away was just another bad idea that could result in a limb being eaten clean off, or worse, cause both him and Jack to lose their lives to giant hungry skags.

“Jack...” Rhys turned back to the other man, hopeless fright evident in his eyes as they met Jack’s now cloudy lifeless ones. _Jack, have you always looked this lost?_ “What do we do?”

Jack always had a plan. From the very moment he awoke from the shuttle explosion, the older man had dragged them through every scenario with an immediate, completely improvised, plan of action. If there was one characteristic to Jack that deemed extremely lucky in situations like this was that the man was quick on his feet, the correct fight or flight decision instantly strategized to pull them out of every heinous plight they’d found themselves in.

Jack _always_ had a plan.

“I don’t know.”

That was before Rhys had laid out every insecurity the man had and stomped on them with spiked-sole boots.

It was not long before the desert buggies halted to a considerable distance from the two men and the ring of skags, three terrain vehicles flanking each side of the circle, the roaring of the engines drowning out all other noise around them. The Alpha Skags erupted in a fit of yowls and wails, harmonizing as if calling out to someone. Movement poured out from the vehicles, tattered rags of brown and gray, broken misfit armor and bandana-mask covered faces, _bandits_ , stormed the circumference. Their guns and armor _clacked_ and _clanged_ with each heavy stomp of their feet. Rifles, shotguns, pistols, whatever they were holding were cocked and aimed directly at Jack and himself.

_“…be wary of him, Rhys…he will not be kind to you…”_

What did that mean? How did he, his own mind, _it_ , whatever it was, know who they were before Rhys did?

”Aaalright, boys!” A new voice called out, rough, weather-beaten, high pitched, sounded from the buggy facing both men. A flash of burgundy jumped from the vehicle. Pointed, skag-leather boots landed with a soft thud to rustle the dirt, followed by a polished, wooden cane.

Burgundy, and a gold-toothed, shit eating grin Rhys would never forget.

“You betta have somethin good for me this time. I ain’t gettin out in this godforsaken heat for another dead Rakk Hive. I’s bout beat ya’ll for that last little stunt.”

Bandits _and_ skags parted like the sea for this one man, who strolled past man and beast with an arrogant swag. Whoever he was, it was obvious he was the head of this entire circus show, that term now more so suited by the eccentric outfit; a red-brown-burgundy suit, hand-me-down or stripped from a corpse by the looks of it, but still holding an air of rich Pandoran aristocracy. He was lanky, much shorter than Rhys and Jack by a good foot in length. His eyes were hidden behind a thick pair of blacked out wind-resistant goggles, which only stood out against the alabaster color of his skin. His face was shaded by a large hat perched upon his head, the bill of the hat stretching out long all the way around, a long and very aged bird feather stuck to one side. When he walked, he slung his cane about; a polished, slightly bent looking stick of wood, its purpose obviously for flash and decor than the actual need for one judging by the lack of limp in the small man’s stride.

_“…wait for me…Rhys…”_

_What…what does that mean?_

He asked himself, not expecting an answer of any kind. The voice only spoke in odd short sentences or comments. But this time, he was answered.

_“…what I am saying…to you, Rhys…stay alive…until I am with you…”_

There was a fleeting phantom sensation, similar to a disappearing presence, of something detaching itself from Rhys’ subconscious. If only he had more time to further ponder the voice’s warning, for the small flamboyant bandit finally made his way to the inner circle, having spread his arms wide to dance fingers over the armor belonging to the closest pair of skags on either side of him, a fond gesture.

“Now, what’s got my babies so excited, huh? A pair a’ filthy little desert rats—”

It seemed the head bandit’s words were immediately forced back down his own throat the very second his head turned to Jack’s direction, and he stopped in mid stride. He stayed there, as if turned to stone upon Jack’s returned stare, the older man keeping his shoulders squared and his body tense, waiting for the inevitable reaction.

As expected, the flamboyantly dressed man visibly slouched forward, the hand that wasn’t grabbing his cane reaching up to yank the goggles from his eyes. Bright, round, bulging brown irises blinked profusely at the sight in front of him. He’d soon realize, to Rhys’ dismay, that what he was looking at was not a mirage or some heat induced hallucination.

“I’ll…be… _damned…_ ”

The confused, slack jawed stare twisted to a brilliant, face splitting grin that allowed all to see the assortment of rotted teeth and some gold capped fakes, eyes shining with a terrifying promise of the unspeakable horror that was about to unfold on the two men. Rhys inched back at the man’s crazed expression. Jack challenged it head on with a stubborn scowl and a narrow-eyed glare.

The Burgundy Bandit sagged his shoulders and let out a huffed laugh.

“The GODS are smiling down on us today, boys! You know why that is!?”

His soldiers remained obediently silent. His skags erupted in a fit of ear ringing howls. He whirled around in a blur of red, swinging his arms out and wide, head raised to the sky to thank his merciful Gods.

“Because _today_ , we caught ourselves a _King_!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another OC has appeared! And this time, it's a strange little skag pimp...er, pirate. And unfortunately, you will absolutely hate him.
> 
> And don't worry! If you think you'll never read another smutty moment or comical relief, don't fret just yet! This story will be chalked full of all sorts of crazy moments! So stay tuned!
> 
> All reviews are welcomed. I hope you enjoyed the read. :) See ya next time!


	15. Pirates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me FOREVER to write. Between the slang and the flow of conversation...I'm beat. But I'm just so damn impatient, I couldn't wait any longer to post this chapter! You're wonderful reviews, the many kudos and bookmarks, I couldn't help myself!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all who have had to soldier through my angst these last two chapters. You guys are troopers! Seriously, if it hurts to write it, it must be so painful to read. I'm sorry to say, this chapter is just as bad if not worse, but I tried to lighten it up a tad. :) 
> 
> WARNINGS: this chapter is very gritty. strong language, strong content, some very lewd shit, guys.
> 
> Enjoy!!

**_ECHO EYE 2.1_ **

**_SEARCH RESULTS FOUND: 1_ **

**_SKAG PIRATE;_ [skag pahy- _ruh t_ ]; _noun, a person who robs or commits illegal violence, using the obedience, domestication, and control of various species of Skag to obtain the works or activities of another by force and without authorization._**

_Tell me something I didn’t already figure out,_ Rhys thought despairingly with a slump of his shoulders. While Jack’s existence had consumed the small pirate’s attention, Rhys took advantage of his momentary invisibility to perform a quick scan on the man. It was unsurprising that his search results to would turn up with no more information then what he could gather from the visible eye. For the most part this flamboyant bandit overlord had successfully managed to stay out of Hyperion’s radar. The only item of information remotely helpful was the bounty on the man’s head.

An alarming _$482,000,000._

One would have to have committed some hefty and unimaginable crimes to get a price that high on their head.

The _smack_ of a cane hitting the ground rocked Rhys out of his thoughts, and he shut his Echo eye off to bring himself back to the matter at hand. He watched as the stunted pirate squared his body, hands placed on top of his cane centered in front of him, head tilted to the side as his eyes roamed over Jack’s body; taking in every detail like one would admire a portrait.

“ _My my_ ,” the words slithered from his scabbed lips, “you look _magnificently_ ravaged, _Sir._ Makin me wonder why’s you out here lookin like _that_.” The man’s head turned to the left, then to the right, scanning the desert around him, then finally he set his narrowed gaze back to Jack.

“No bots. No soldiers…makin me wonder _a lot_ a’things.”

Jack had dubiously stayed quiet throughout the entire confrontation; stance unwavering, shoulders set, had yet to break or falter his intense stare as he regarded the other man silently. Rhys found this tactic new and unfamiliar, as in prior events concerning Jack and a potential antagonist the older man would not have hesitated to puff his chest and strut about with insistent babbling in an attempt to dominate the situation entirely.

Was this a _new_ _Jack_ tactic?

The burgundy pirate raised a hand to wag a long boney finger, giving Jack a questionable smile. “Pardon my ignorance, but sumthin ain’t right here.” He began to stalk forward, calmly, a barely contained pep in each step he made toward the ex-Hyperion ruler.

“ _They_ ,” his wagging finger pointed at Helios hovering in the distant left of the sky, “says _you_ blew up. _Boom!_ ” He jazzed his hands. “But that ain’t what I’m seein.”

“What I _see_ ,” he announced as soon as he stood a meager two feet in front of Jack, having to crane his head up to stare directly into the older man’s face, “is a _lost_ King tryn’ta find his thrown. Tell me, _Sir_ , is they lookin for ya?”

Before Rhys could process what he was witnessing, the chrome top of the pirate’s cane shot straight up to catch the bottom of Jack’s chin, jerking the man’s head up. It ripped a quiet, unexpected gasp from Rhys’ lips at the sheer boldness of the small man’s actions; to have recklessly and with abandon _touch_ Handsome Jack in such an offensive way. It was even _more_ shocking that despite this, Jack had made no move to counter the pirate’s actions, had not even flinched or changed his stoic expression.

The cane twirled slowly under Jack’s chin, reflecting the pirate’s contemplation. Sinister brown eyes stared at void blue and green eyes, locked in the battle for a win Rhys could not understand. He switched his gawking stare from one man to the other, squinting to figure out the enigma between the two.

The pirate then chuckled lowly under his breath and slowly lowered the cane from Jack’s jaw. He twirled around on the balm of one foot and left the silent man to pace thoughtfully.

“C’mon now, _Sir,_ I didn’t wait _years_ fo’this moment jus’so you get all quiet on me? Was’wrong? Lost ya voice along with ya Kingdom? Thas no fun.” Those words carried a sort of haunting perception that didn’t sit well with Rhys. For a Pandoran crime lord who lacked proper grammar, his words seemed calculated and well-thought-out. Intentionally using key points to antagonize the man, to rile him up. There was a purpose there, but it felt to Rhys as though it had more to do with just another civilian seeking righteous vengeance on the man that dictated their planet with a ruthless fist. No, this pirate was more than that.

But he also had a valid point. Why the _hell_ was Jack so quiet? What was he trying to achieve by letting this man rant and rave and make a fool out of him? Was it a reverse psychology?

“ _Oooh_ , I see…you tryn’ta remember me, huh? You know my face, dontcha?”

As unpredictable as before, the pirate whirled around and advanced on Jack, stopping short of the taller man to give him a large expectant grin. His tone, however, spoke with no hint of humor, instead pouring out resentment that sounded bottled from a years-old grudge.

“You _betta_ know my _fuckin_ face, fool.” For a little man, his snarl was vicious and vile. “You betta know _exactly_ who I am and what you took from _me._ ”

There was a spark of life in Jack’s eyes, narrowing a fraction in confusion as he continued to stare down the other man, who must have decided at that moment he didn’t like the reaction his words pulled from the ex-Hyperion CEO, as if it was simply not good enough. The grin melted from his face, morphing into a scowl, eyelids twitching angrily around bulging brown irises.

And like a bipolar grenade, the burgundy pirate let out a shrill squawk of indignant rage that could rival the tantrum of a child’s with the way he stomped his foot and threw his arms to his sides.

“Lynchwood was _MY_ town, you sumbitch!”

 _That_ proclamation certainly got Jack’s attention, but sadly not the way the crime lord wanted. All he was awarded for his outburst was a simple quirk of an eyebrow, and it sent the man into a fit of stomps and petulant squawks. The surrounding Alpha Skags began to wail loudly at their master’s reaction; howling and barking madly. The pirate stopped his conniption to face his beasts. “Shaddup, ya’lil _shits_!”

The skags quieted almost immediately, leaving the desert with a most awkward silence that made Rhys shift uncomfortably. He watched warily at the odd sight before him, of the pirate shaking himself out of his rage with a deep shuttering breath and a roll of his shoulders before turning back to Jack with a goofy crooked smile.

After a quick readjustment of his burgundy attire, the Skag Pirate cleared his throat and started again. “ _Now_ , where was I? Ahh, _Lynchwood,_ the town ya took right out from under me. I was _so_ close ta’ runnin that goldmine, I cou’ _taste_ it…”

“…an’then you go and make tha’lil _bitch_ sheriff.”

By now Rhys had been struggling to make sense of the one-sided argument, not knowing anything about this _Lynchwood_ place other than it was an old mining town with a decent train station. Sure, a lot of people, from corporate scumbags to bandits, coveted the town due to its eridium mining, which was why the town landed under the ownership of Hyperion. It was no surprise that this little man was sour about losing his chance to run one of the most profitable towns on Pandora – even if the place looked like something out of an old wild west tale – and it was not unusual that Jack knew the sheriff of the town if said town was owned and managed by Hyperion.

But Rhys would be lying if he said he didn’t notice the way the pirate’s words effected Jack; a slight change in breathing, eyes widening for a fraction of a second, lips drawn into a thin line, and the most notable clenching of the older man’s fists at his sides.

And the young brunette wasn’t the only one who noticed.

“Oh?” The Skag Pirate chuckled mockingly, “too soon? Oops. Now, don’ get me wrong, she was _quite_ a sight… _mm,_ woulda liked _that_ lil cat workn’ under me, if ya get my _sexual innuendo._ ”

Even though Rhys had no planetary idea what the little creep was talking about, he had to admit the guy was about as smooth as he was well taught in the art of linguistics.

But currently, he was pretty good at pissing off Jack, for the young man watched as Jack’s chest heaved silent breaths, posture becoming stiff as shoulders hunched. Whoever the pirate was speaking lewdly about, they must have been someone in Jack’s past that Rhys categorized as an _unmentionable._

The little man began walking steady circles around Jack, watching the man’s reaction from all angles with a satisfied smirk on his lips, cane tapping the ground like a third step. He stopped in mid stride inches from Jack, hands and cane now behind his back as he rocked on his heels. He bent slightly and lifted his head up to interrupt Jack’s heated glare with his shoes, that same gritty-rotten-gold grin plastered to his smug little face.

“Why you give’er that town, _Sir_? Tell me…was it cuz she got yo dick wet? Pussy _that_ tight you give’er a _fuckin_ town’ta run?”

A soft rattling sounded from Rhys’ right, and he broke his startled eyes from the man’s _bastard_ face to see his cybernetic arm at his side, the trembling metal catching distorted reflections from the sunlight. The quaking traveled up through his shoulder to ripple along every muscle in his body, warmth spreading along his cheeks to stain his ears red.

In his twenty-six years of being alive, despite everything he’d seen, who he’d met, and what he’d done, had he ever felt such a disgusting yearn to watch something, _someone,_ bleed out in agony as he so very much wished he could watch this transgressor choke and flop right in front of his God and everyone around him. _Sick, psychotic, bastard…_ it felt _too_ good to think that, and more tempting to say it.

 _Don’t give in, Jack;_ he so desperately wanted to say. It was apparent how bad Jack wanted to do something to this terrible man. And yet, he remained perfectly still and regarded him with the slightest of emotions. _You’re right…you’re too good to let that get to you…_ ”

“An’ _daaaaamn,_ did it feel _good_ when that lil’bitch got gunn’down by those Vault Hunters…same ones’tha gunn yo’ass down too, huh?”

_Don’t listen to him…_

The flamboyant pirate inched up slowly until his grin was right in Jack’s face, practically preening himself at the older man’s crumbling resolve. “An’you go and pop up outta the groun…like a _fuckin_ daisy.”

_Don’t listen to him!_

“Tch…the’fuck you do ta’get back up’ere? You a _goddamn_ demon or sumthin?”

“Don’t listen to him, Jack.”

_Oh damn._

The sudden sharp look he received from those eyes nearly crushed Rhys’ lungs with the shocked intensity swirling in their brown depths, seizing the breath right out of his mouth. The desert turned ice cold then, a suffocating silence falling over them. He swallowed, and flickered his attention to Jack’s added stare, head turned and one very startled green eye thrown over his shoulder and at Rhys alarmingly. He’d know that look anywhere; a silent _shut the hell up, Rhys_ that needn’t be spoke out loud for the young man to understand their eye-language. It was the first time Jack had broken his stare anywhere from his shoes or the man in front of him, and it held such a pleading request.

Rhys bit back the submission that green eye pleaded for. “Don’t…don’t listen to him. Y-You’re better than that.” _He’s right. Shut up, Rhys!_ “He’s just trying to get under your skin by vomiting shit from his mouth.” _Oh, God. Rhys, please be quiet!_

Now would have been the time for Jack to humorously smack his forehead. And considering the mood held no invitation for such comic relief, Rhys waited for the inevitable fit of rage from the tiny pirate once the man snapped out of his consternation and realized that, yes, while he’d been poking a bull there happened to be someone else in the ring.

“ _Oh…”_ a gasp escaped the bandit’s lips, eyes blinking out of their stupor to give Rhys one very _long_ up-and-down look, “who’s this feisty li’l kitten?” And with a slow stride forward, it seemed he’d forgotten all about Jack.

“Hey, sugar.” The pirate approached slowly, prowling with the stealth of a hungry predator. It made Rhys take a cautious step back. Those starved eyes roamed over his body again, catching when he noticed his right arm. No one had ever had _that_ expression when gawking at his prosthetic…figurative dollar signs glossing over brown irises.

The man stopped when he came almost toe-to-toe with Rhys, head craning up to look up at the younger man’s face from under the bill of his hat, a stargazed smile laced with filthy intentions that crawled over Rhys’ skin and made him shiver in disgust.

“You shur’are a nice thing ta’look at, boy.” A pink tongue shot out from between the man’s dry lips, wetting them from one end of the top to the far end of the bottom. “You his new squeeze?”

Brown and cyber-blue eyes chanced a quick glimpse to Jack’s vivid gaze, before glancing back down at the grin stretching across the pirate’s pale face. When Rhys opened his mouth to reply he found the only sound that came out was a strangled gasp, as the sensation of curious fleshy digits danced over the metal plating of his arm.

Awe sparkled in his eyes. “You go’sum _nice_ gadgets, boy. Mm… _real_ nice.”

Rhys watched horridly as the man practically moaned while he smoothed over his forearm with the pads of his fingertips, going as far as biting his bottom lip while those greedy fingers crawled up his arm, over his elbow to inch closer to where organic shoulder joint met prosthetic.

Irate, Rhys gnashed his teeth together and moved backward hastily trying to pull his arm back and out of the man’s hold.

“Don’t touch me—”

The attempt to create more distance from the man backfired horribly, as the offensive hand clenched down on his wrist and tugged _hard,_ sending Rhys flying forward only to be caught by the side of his head, fingers splayed over one side of his face, a calloused thumb firm under his Echo eye.

As puffs of breath landed on Rhys’ face, he sorely wished he’d never have to be this close to the man’s unusually pale face; so close he could see the purple veins spider along his cheeks and under his eyes. He smelt of stale cigars and rust…or aged blood.

The pirate spoke low in a hushed murmur, thumb gliding over the skin underneath Rhys’ Echo eye, pulling his lid down and inspecting the circuitry in his blue iris, index finger drawing circles around the port in his temple. “I’s be a good boy if I’s you…I cou’shure get a _pretty penny_ fa’you in the undagroun market. _Or…”_ that sick grin came back, thin eyebrows lifting suggestively, “…maybe I’s sell these nicer parts a’ya an keep the rest fo’myself.” And to emphasize his point, he abruptly jerked Rhys’ head to the side and opened his mouth to let a long tongue slide out and lap at Rhys’ face, sliding from his jaw, up his cheek, and finally to his temple to lap over his port.

“Aahn!” In a moment of complete aggrieved shock, Rhys let out a disgusted cry, scrunching his eyes closed and biting his lip anxiously. He cracked his brown eye open, looking out in the distance, trying to get his mind far away from his current disposition. When he spotted Jack his stare lingered on him, watching the changeover of reactions cross the older man’s face; shock, disquiet, and finally a kind of indignant fury that gnarled the man’s top lip.

Thinking nothing of it, he closed his eyes once more, allowing the pirate to jerk his head back again and sighed, giving the dry part of Rhys’ face a harsh love-tap. “Thas a good boy.”

In that very instance the desert air echoed some of the loudest most raucous laughter Rhys had ever heard; howling cackles that caused the young man to pop his eyes open to where the laughing was coming from. He noticed the pirate had stilled as well, expression matching Rhys’ as they both turned their startled attention to Jack chortling away like a lunatic, his body bent at an angle, one arm laced around his stomach, other arm bent at the elbow as he cradled his face in the palm of his hand.

When it first seemed like Jack would calm down he didn’t, and after a long inhale of air another wave of uncontrollable laughter overcame him, body lolling back to exhale a rather humorous howl.

The burgundy pirate blinked, mouth opening and staying open until he could inquire, “wh…the’hell you laughin’bout?”

“Hahaha… _oh man…_ ahah..heheoohhahaha…just…gimme a sec,” Jack held one long finger up at the pirate, who sputtered in reply.

Rhys bit his lip, concern washing over him. _Why’s he laughing? Didn’t he look ready to maim someone only seconds ago?_

“Hah, just….” It was a good minute before Jack’s tumultuous chuckles simmered down to tired giggles and he locked eyes with the exasperated bandit with a mocking smirk, “just thinking about how I’m going to kill your goofy looking ass!”

“ _Es-scuse_ me?!” The pirate stammered, dropping his hands from Rhys’s arm and face to drop to his sides, almost losing the grip on his cane. He took a daring step forward, eyes bulging as Jack continued.

“Oh, _you,_ pipsqueak, are the _funniest_ looking little shitstain I have _ever_ had the pleasure of meeting. I mean…where the _hell_ does someone like you come from? Just _look_ at you!” Jack waved a hand over the smaller man’s physique, emphasizing his point. “I’ve met _eight-year-olds_ that speak better than you! And are _taller_ than you, too!”

“God…” Jack sighed, wiping an invisible tear from his eye, “I’ve been holding that in since the second you crawled out of that car.” _Why is he lying?_ “You can imagine how hard I had to keep from busting a gut. I gotta ask…where the hell did you get that suit? What are you even _wearing_? Are you like, a pimp or something? Ooh! What’s your pimp name? Oh! Oh! Lemme guess; _Alabaster Slim?_ Cuz your skin’s so freakishly pale? How about _Skag Daddy;_ you definitely strike me as the kinda guy who’d mess around with animals.”

Jack was on a roll. “You any kin to the Hodunk family, by chance? Ya’know; inbred, backwater, cousin-fucking people? Maybe it’s your godawful speech, I dunno. I’m getting that kind of vibe from you.”

Rhys put a hand over his open mouth. From the corner of his eye he caught two bandits from the outer circle exchange glances at one another, which was definitely not a good sign. With the pirate’s back to Rhys he could only see the man’s small shoulders tremble madly, a small capricious volcano soon to erupt if Jack kept spouting out nonsense.

And then it suddenly dawned on Rhys, the reason for Jack’s ludicrous outbursts. Was he… drawing the Skag Pirate’s attention away from him? There was no questioning the hostile look Jack gave to the pirate when he licked Rhys’ face, and now so shortly after the man was a ball of chuckles and insults? That had to be the reason. And it made Rhys’ stomach churn at the thought.

_Don’t do it, Jack…don’t do something so brash for my sake…not after what I’ve said to you…_

“Is you fuckin stupid or sumthin?!” The pirate screeched.

“Gee, I’unno, is you literate?” Jack countered back, mocking the man’s speech.

“Y’know sumthin, you arrogant _shit_?” The pirate waltzed right up to Jack, puffing his red-vested chest to make himself a little bigger, however his chest only came up to Jack’s torso, allowing the taller man to overshadow him with his bigger frame. The skag king pointed a boney finger at Jack’s chest. “I cou’sell yo’ass for _eight-trillion_ an’live easy. But I’s ain’t _about_ to pass up the optunity to hear yo’ass _scream_ as I rip that _fuckin_ tongue from yo’mouth.”

Jack nodded quietly to the man’s threat, taking it all in with an abnormally understanding expression, only to suddenly flinch and tilt his head questioningly.

“ _Just_ eight? You can do _betta than that, cain’t ya?”_

 _Oh, Jack…_ Rhys shook his head, _just stop while you’re ahead._

The smaller man’s eyes twitched fiercely, and sucked in his bottom lip to chew out of his rage. Rhys expected the man to explode, to sick his Alpha Skags on Jack and watch triumphantly as they mauled him to bits. But when that didn’t happen, he watched the man closely as he leaned in closer to Jack and hissed in his face, “I…am _shur_ gonna enjoy killin you.”

“Is that a promise? It’s as you said,” Jack replied in an equally hissed tone. Running a large hand through his hair, smoothing over locks of brown and silver, he leaned over the man until he was practically towering over him, causing the short pirate to have to bend back slightly. With a growl that rivalled the skags around him Jack continued hoarsely, “I popped up out of the ground, right? What makes you think you’d be able to put me back in my _fucking_ grave when better men have tried? Huh, little man?”

Rhys couldn’t help the thrill and satisfaction at watching the Skag Pirate inch back with wide eyes, swallowing so hard his Adam’s apple bobbed at the force of it. _Fear_ , as evident as day, flickered across his eyes. It was all too short lived, however, as when the tiny pirate finally blinked out of his fright he convulsed an exasperated laugh from a crooked smirk.

“Les’ test tha'theory, shall we?” And with a full body jolt, he sailed the chrome tip of his cane directly into the side Jack’s head, crashing the haft directly against his temple and before Jack could even sound the pain the attack must have fomented, his eyes rolled back into his head, and he crumpled lifelessly to the dirt floor. Now it was the skag pirate’s turn to tower over the fallen ex-CEO, casting his narrowed eyes down with a distasteful look. “Nighty night, _bitch_.”

It all happened to fast, that when reality tugged Rhys forward the young man found himself sprinting over to Jack’s limp body, heart racing, lungs constricted. He barely had time to register the man’s name bellowing out of his own mouth, panicked and flooded with anguish.

“Nuh-uh. Not t’day, boy.”

Rhys really should have paid more attention to the little sleezeball’s actions, as that same chrome handled cane shot out from his right to hook him square in the stomach, ceasing the momentum of his run, causing his body to inadvertently coil around the offending object twisting into his stomach. The air knocked clean out of his lungs, stomach churning painfully enough to vomit, Rhys choked and gasped before collapsing to the ground in a ball, both arms wrapped tightly around the point of agony just under his ribcage. He sputtered harshly, trying to breath despite the numbing sensation spreading over his torso. Through blurry vision and discomfort, he eyed a small object lying next to his head in the dirt, a familiar memento he’d long forgotten about.

_Harmony’s doll…_

Organic fingers twitched, aching to reach out and grab it before…

The sole of a pointy-toed skag leather boot came down on top of the makeshift doll, _cracks_ and _pops_ of the sticks and tiny ropes being crushed underneath the weight could be heard clearly over the muddled mess of other sounds around him, of quickly approaching footsteps, of excited animalistic howls. Taking one considerably deeper breath, he steadied his vision to the best of his ability and turned his head up, eyes barely making out figures hovering above him.

The Skag Pirate stared down at him with disinterest, turning his head to two bandit henchmen that stood over the younger man. “Load’em up in the back. Take care’a this one, he’s go’sum fine shit I don’want rough’andled, ya hear me?”

The henchman grunted in reply. With one last downturn of his eyes, the pirate smiled fondly at Rhys and knelt down to lean in closer.

“Swee’dreams, kitten.”

The last thing Rhys saw before the numbing darkness overtook him was the blunt end of the pirate’s cane colliding with his skull.

 

 

 

 

 

_“zzzzzhhh…”_

_“…zzzhshshh…..zzzhzzhhys….”_

The roaring of engines came and gone…heat; stinging warmth against flesh amidst the blatant darkness began to stir Rhys into an inbetween of consciousness and sleep.

_“Rhys…”_

_Who…_ He could barely understand the voice that called to him…from where he’d never know. Nothing made sense in this limbo.

_“Hear me….”_

A harsh thump of skull against steel knocked Rhys’ eyes open, squinting when blurred distorted vision met blue sky and blinding sunlight above him. A soft groan rumbled up his throat. His head…God, it hurt so bad…why did his head hurt so much?

_“Are you well?”_

Where was that voice coming from? As vision cleared only minutely he thought for a moment that the sky was talking to him… _that’s just crazy…skies don’t talk._

_“Are you frightened?”_

What kind of question was that? He swallowed nothing down his throat, the action rippling more unfathomable pain from one temple to the other. He tried to raise his arm to cradle the ache, but found that he couldn’t move his arms. Flickering eyes glanced down, looking distantly at the ropes that bound his wrists together, hands lying limp across his stomach. _Oh…I can’t move…._

His neck felt like rubber when the movements underneath him jostled his head, rolling it limply to the other side. Another body lay next to him, motionless and bound with ropes just like himself, a trail of dried blood staining tan skin from scalp to chin.

_Jack…_

He watched, barely, as the man’s chest rose and fell rhythmically. _Good…he’s alive._

_“Rhys…”_

The young brunette scrunched his eyes closed with a moan. _Oh, my head…you’re not helping…._

The voice was silent for a while, and then…

_“Are you well?”_

“…n…no…” He finally answered.

_“…….are you frightened?”_

It hurt to think, but the question certainly called for it. Rhys stayed quiet, fighting off the desperate yearn to fall back into the peaceful darkness he was harshly jolted out of. He thought about himself, the pain…he thought about Helios; of Vaughn, Sasha, Fiona. He thought of Jack lying comatose next to him.

“…yes…” he whispered, consciousness slipping as the blackness seeped into the corners of his eyes.

And as Rhys drifted back into the quiescent sleep that claimed him, the voice replied,

_“…Ego autem venio ad te, Rhys…I will be there soon.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder what language that was....you'll find out very soon ;) or you can use good ol' google translate!
> 
> Writing the skag pirate made me angry >:( God, even I just want to punch him!!
> 
> Stay tuned! It's gonna get REAL pretty soon!!
> 
> As always, thank you for reading and all comments are welcome!


	16. Anatomical Bombs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm so very sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out! My summer has been so busy I haven't had the time to sit down and write! One of the good things to this is that I have so many new Rhack fics to catch up on. :) thanks guys! Keep em coming!
> 
> Anyway, I wanted to get this one chapter out, and I will try my hardest to update sooner. :) Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hold onto your seats, because this chapter is...*flinches* angsty too...but don't freak out and want to maim me just yet!! I promise, if you stick through it you will be HEAVILY REWARDED!! 
> 
> Please Read My Warnings: This chapter contains some strong material, stronger than my other chapters. Strong language, some gore, and mentions/intentions of rape. Don't worry, it's not extreme at all, just a tad uncomfortable for those of you who are wary about the subject. Please forgive me if I have offended anyone.
> 
> However, I will say that the fluff and badassery that is RHACK in this chapter may compensate for it, so I hope. :)
> 
> Enjoy!

_“…venio…”_

_What does it mean…?_

_“…non nocebit…”_

_I don’t understand…_

An innervation of needles stabbed at sensitive flesh, pulsating consciousness forward with every drumming pain; sharp and tingling the nerves to force quick spasms along bruised muscles. Pictures flickered, broken images in a damaged roll of film projected against heavy eyelids, watching places Rhys had never been…of long hallways made of steel and stone…shadowed corners and dimly lit passageways. The smell of cold soil…wet moss…aged metal.

Another wave of prickling sensations across various regions of skin and muscles, spurring movement, spurring consciousness…. elongated walkways disappearing as darkness seeped from the corners of his vision.

_“Nothing…will hurt you…”_

_Please, not the darkness…_

Silence, as vision faded to an endless void of black.

_I don’t want to be in the dark._

_“…ES MEUS, RHYS!”_

“Gah!” Burning lungs welcomed Rhys the moment he awoke, starved for the air he was glad to suck in desperately no matter how stale and putrid it started to taste once the reality of his surroundings began to sink in. His eyes, blurry with the weight of sleep, blinked through the fog to see a dimly lit exposed light bulb hanging above him, connected to a single wire running up to a warped and very rusted tin ceiling.

A single gulp of air down his dry throat tickled a cough from his chapped lips. As Rhys’ chest convulsed slightly as a newfound assortment of sharp pains rippled along his back, stemming from his shoulder blades to his hips and down to his left calf. Needles…was he laying in needles. Rhys turned his head to the left to investigate. Thankfully a bed of needles was not what he saw, but comprehending that he was currently lying between a mess of broken springs on a tarnished old metal bed frame was not comforting either.

 _I could probably spend my whole life on Pandora and never see a freaking mattress,_ he thought morbidly. Wary eyes attempted a glance at his shoulder, noticing that his head cradled on his bicep; a very uncomfortable feeling if one should ever think to sleep on their own arm. Slowly he raised his head to relieve the pressure and bring the blood flow back into his arm…

…and when his movements were caught by the clinking of a chain along with a slight burn of rusted metal at his wrist, Rhys realized something very dour about his situation. His head shot up immediately, stomach churning when his fears had indeed come true right before his eyes.

An old metal shackle was wrapped tightly around his wrist, chain linked to another shackle wound around one of the iron rods of the bed frame above him. _Oh, this is not good…._

Knowing the outcome of his movements Rhys decided to yank his arm against the chain anyway, watching the shackle catch and keep his arm in place. He then glanced down at himself to inspect his body, thankful that the rest of himself seemed as if nothing was out of place. His clothes were still on, that was a good sign. His right leg had been left alone, but just like his right wrist it seemed his left ankle had been shackled to the iron frame at the end of the bed.

 _Why just one leg?_ He never pondered that question further, as when his eyes stopped at his right shoulder he felt a surge of cold dread freeze his heart.

Nostalgia was the first feeling to seep in, rekindling a memory of the first time he’d woken up and realized he did not have a right arm. He was just a child then, and could never truly understand why he mourned his arm like he mourned his father’s passing. It wasn’t the same, and yet it was. At least to a child. The grief, the denial, the _anger_ , it was all there…and it was all here at this very moment, a floodgate of emotions sending him spiraling into a fit of panicked breathing and clenched teeth.

_Where is it…?! Where is my arm?!_

Frantic eyes searched about the room, ignoring the details of the shoddy little windowless room he was in, overlooking broken shrapnel and dismantled guns, glancing past slapdashedly-welded walls, and finally to a large shelf hanging from a wall by two chain links, a makeshift workstation by the looks of it, a smaller light bulb hanging over the shelf unveiling the location of his robotic prosthetic, sword, and Jack’s leather jacket.

His arm…it was so far…too far away. He needed to get to it, he needed his arm with him. If he could just…

But the chains held him firm to his bed of broken springs. He could do nothing but lay there feeling completely vulnerable.

Rhys began to expand his reality with thoughts of his whereabouts. The tiny slime pirate…where had he taken him? Where was this place? It was dark and shabby, and the air smelt stale and pungent with aged metal and rot, a kind of rot he couldn’t figure out. A hint of stagnant animal urine assaulted his nostrils for a split second, churning his stomach at the very thought. He pulled at the chains, frustrated and desperate. He had to get out of here…before they came back…before the skag pirate came for him…he had to find a way out…

He had to find Jack.

Jack…

_Jack…where are you?!_

If these pirates had left Rhys in this kind of condition, he could only wonder in horror at Jack’s current condition, could only hope and pray the older man was okay. That he was still alive. Being in a windowless room gave no hint at how long he’d been unconscious, if it’d been for hours or worse…days. What if in that time they had done something to Jack? Rhys squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head to rid himself of the terrifying possibilities that danced in his head…horrifying visions of torture and maiming….

They had lied to each other, fought with cutthroat words and rage driven fists. Jack had thrown everything in his face, and he threw it right back. The nights they shared in each other’s arms were mocked and regretted.

Rhys’ chin wrinkled to fight the sob crawling up his throat. He didn’t get it…of all the hateful words shared between them, the look of unparalleled rage in those heterochromic eyes when hands that once caressed him lovingly had wrapped around his neck with all the intention of ending his life, he shouldn’t be thinking of Jack this way…he should be angry, he should not have to give a damn whether Jack was okay or not….

But he was. And if he was being completely honest with himself, right now he couldn’t care less about the state he was in compared to the overwhelming need to see Jack, to know he was alright, to have the man hold him and tell him they were going to get out of this alive.

_Jack…where are you…I need to know you’re okay…I-I need you here._

He let out a hiccuped sob, too absorbed in his own thoughts to hear the distant groans of door hinges echoing in the room.

“Where are you…?” Rhys whispered to the room.

“I’m right’ere, kitten.”

Without skipping a beat, Rhys opened his eyes slowly to peer through the dim light of the room over the edge of the bed and to the small silhouette standing in the open door. Light gleamed on golden teeth, a grim reminder of that sadistic grin, bulging eyes peering at him with malevolent glee. The figure moved from the doorway and into the room soundlessly, stopping at the foot of the bed. Brown eyes scanned over Rhys from head to toes and back up to meet eyes.

“Tha’sweet…ya missin me already, sweet thang?” The skag pirate let out a mocking chuckle from his rotten grin, raising one hand to lift the hat from his head and place it tenderly on the edge of the bed. With a quick shake of his head he tossed back greasy black hair from his face.

“Give me my arm back,” Rhys snarled suddenly, somewhat startled by his own impulsive outburst.

The pirate’s smile faltered, eyes glancing quickly to the robotic arm on the shelf then back to Rhys. He clicked his tongue. “That ainch'yours no more, boy. Tha’s _my_ property now.” He stepped around the bed and stood to Rhys’ left, eyes casting down a possessive glare. “So are you.”

“Like hell!” Rhys barked back. His limbs began to tremble with a building rage he never knew he’d been holding in. Despite his current disposition, he couldn’t afford to let this man know he was afraid, that the little man had won.

“Go rot in a hole, asswipe.”

“Ain’t you a bitchy li’l thing when ya wake up? Tha’s fine,” the pirate replied, agitation evident in his tone, “I can work wit’at.” He shimmied his shoulders until the burgundy suit jacket dropped from his arms, sliding off and onto the floor. Small bony fingers raised to the collar of his off-white dress shirt and plucked the first button, then another. Rhys watched, slowly growing more alarmed by the second. What was he doing? He wasn’t planning on…

_Only one leg is bound…_

_Oh…_

_…Shit._

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Rhys’ threat had come out low and controlled in a way that caused the pirate to hesitate, hopefully in the way the young man sorely hoped. They stared at one another for a few seconds before the silence of the room was broken by wheezed laughter. The pirate arched his back and cackled, and Rhys thanked the brief distraction. If he could get a few more of those from the pirate he could probably think of a way out of this.

“Wut you gon’do bout it, boy? You gon’bust outta those chains’n come at me? Cute. _Reeeal_ cute. I’s likin’ ya more’n more, kitten.” He plucked another button on his shirt. Rhys gulped; dammit, that backfired quickly.

There was _one_ tactic he could use…one that he’d been taught at Hyperion if ever caught in a scuffle with a Pandoran. He’d once laughed at the technique, calling it useless and a great way to get a quick death, but right now it was the last option he could think of.

Talk a bunch of Hyperion bullshit.

“You don’t want to do this.”

“Oh? Says who?”

“Says…uh” _screw it, just say something!_ “Says the bomb in my head.” _What?_

It was one of the dumbest things Rhys could spout out, and he almost winced immediately after he said it, but when the pirate stopped unbuttoning his shirt and went rigid, the young brunette decided that as long as the pirate was as stupid as he assumed he was, there was a strong possibility he could pull this off.

“Bomb?” The shorter man blanched. “Wut bomb?”

“What? You didn’t know?” Rhys laughed haughtily, inwardly pleading for him to buy it. “You think I have these upgrades because they _look fancy_?” When the pirate remained silent Rhys took the opportunity to continue, “I guess you didn’t know about Hyperion’s new anatomical bomb prototypes, huh?”

 The puny pirate fidgeted, fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt around one of the buttons, face distorting into a look of bewilderment, buggy eyes blinking profusely trying to take it all in. Yes, it was beginning to work. Just a little more and he could have this man in the palm of his hand.

“Anut..tomacle bombs….”

 _That’s it, dumbass, take the bait._ “Oh yeah. You’re looking at one of Hyperion’s newest line of weapons. We’re taking _live ammunition_ to a whole new meaning.” Rhys had to catch himself from smirking when the pirate’s eyes bulged. He flashed his Echo eye on to prove a point and couldn’t hold back a mocking laugh when the other man nearly jumped back.

**_ECHO EYE 2.1_ **

**_Heart Rate: 159bpm_ **

He was nervous. That was a good sign. _Utilize his stupidity, manipulate his beliefs._ “You were the one who asked why Handsome Jack wasn’t guarded by soldiers or loaderbots, right?” Rhys waited for the man to respond, however the only answer he was given was the nervous quivering of his pale lips. He smirked.

“Because there’s no need for that, not when I have enough _Cyclotetramethylene-Tetranitramine_ inside my body to take out every living organism within a _twenty_ -mile radius.” First, he wasn’t even aware he could pronounce such a word. Second, he didn’t know very much about explosives, that was R&D’s area of expertise. And third, sometimes it really paid off to be a freaking nerd, because he could practically see smoke billowing from the Pandoran’s ears as he tried to absorb this information.

“Cyclo…tu-teta…erh… _aaargh_! Th’hell kinda shit you sayin’ta me?!” The little man finally snapped and threw his arms to this sides, his whole body trembling with either rage or fear Rhys couldn’t tell and didn’t care, as long as he was distracted and falling for every single word.

“Look, the second you removed my cybernetic arm, you started the timer. From there it’s only a matter of hours before I go off.”

 _That_ comment certainly got the reaction Rhys wanted from the pirate. He watched with barely contained delight as the pirate let out a squawk of fright, hands running frantically through his grungy hair. He took a few steps back and turned around, as if he was trying to piece together the clues that ended in him and his entire squad of skags and bandits being blown to ashes, or at least that was what Rhys wanted him to believe.

“Shit… _shit…_ fuckin’dammit!” The pirate screeched, chest heaving with every curse. He looked back to Rhys with pleading eyes. “Fine... _fine!_ Whadda’you want, _huh?_ I give it to’ya. How you make it stop?!”

Rhys couldn’t believe it. That Hyperion smack-talk actually worked.

“ _Well_ ,” Rhys sighed, laying his head against the uncomfortable springs beneath him in laxity, “by reattaching the arm, there is a _slight_ chance it could freeze the timer and defuse the bomb temporarily. Like I said…” Rhys closed his eyes and smirked, “it’s a _slim_ possibility, but you could try it.”

He didn’t have to open his eyes to know the pirate acted immediately, practically flinging himself over the bed to the shelf on the other side of the room. He heard trembling hands fumble for his arm and had to bite his lip to hold back his laughter when he could hear the shorter man babble to himself frightfully.

And then the skag pirate went quiet.

“….Y’know sumthin?”

Only momentarily taken off guard, Rhys cracked one eye and shifted his head to look at the pirate, but instead of seeing fear on the man’s unsightly pale face, he saw a blur of something sailing straight for him, followed by a skull rattling force collide with the entire right side of his face, a numbing sensation quickly transitioning into a throbbing pain surging from his bones. The force of the blow knocked his head to the side, bouncing off of the springs. Colorful spots danced over Rhys’ vision, hot liquid filling his mouth from one side.

Searing pain drowned every sense in Rhys’ being. His face felt as if it had swelled three times its size and caught fire. _What…wh-what just happened?_

There was a dip in the bed springs as an additional weight landed on the bed to adjust around Rhys’ hips. He could feel the tiny pirate’s weight on him now, thighs on either side of him pinning him in place. Fingers forced themselves through his brown locks, gripping the base of his skull and forcing his head up. Blurry vision finally settled, and Rhys found himself looking directly into a malicious glare.

“You think you’s _so_ smart, dontcha boy?” The pirate spat, eyes narrowing into vicious slits, teeth clenching so hard Rhys could hear the grinding of gold against bone. “Cuz I’s jus’sum _dumbass_ inbred, huh? You’s Hyperion _shits_ be thinkin we’s fall for anythin, huh babydoll?”

_It...it didn’t work…_

Fresh hot blood spilled from the corner of Rhys’ mouth to trail down his chin and drop onto his clothed chest. He noticed the way the pirate king’s eyes followed the trail of blood with a new expression that sickened the younger man. He could have gagged when the smaller man lapped his own lips with his tongue. He didn’t want to know what was going through the man’s head.

The grip on Rhys’ scalp tightened and pulled his head forward, causing his arm to bend at an angle awkward enough to force it out of its socket if strained further. The pirate leaned down and brought his lips to the shell of Rhys’ ear.

“Nice try, ya li’l _shit_. Yo’boss tried the’same damn thing…so I _gutted_ his bitchass.”

Blue and brown eyes rounded at those last words, lungs expelling a harsh gasp that made the pirate cackle in his ear.

_Jack…_

“No…” Rhys choked through the blood in his mouth.

“Oohoho yeah, tha’s right. Y’know…” Rhys didn’t flinch when he felt the pirate’s tongue lap at his earlobe, his mind tortured by various horrific images replaying over and over, “I’s gon’make him _watch_ ’dis shit, _watch_ wut I do ta’ya. Bu’then he goes an’runs that fuckin mouth’ahis an’sets me off…mo’fucka _asked_ fo’that knife I put’n his belly.”

Rhys stared at the ceiling above him, his mind projecting the visions of the knife…the blade tearing through layers of clothing to pierce tan skin he’d remembered running his hands over in admiration once. Those visions blurred, and in one blink he let a flood of tears streak down the corners of his eyes past his temples.

The skag pirate raised himself back up to get a better look at Rhys, tilting his head to the side fondly and puckering his bottom lip, resembling a parent mocking their sulking child. “Aw, was’wrong? You’s sad he can’t fuck yo’ass no more? Don’worry babydoll, I’s take _good_ care’a that ass fo’ya.”

And that’s when something snapped within Rhys. Hollow eyes flickered to the bandit, a second’s hesitation, then finally…

“Fuck you.”

Rhy hawked a giant ball of saliva and blood directly into the pirate’s eyes, erupting a high pitched squeal from the man on top of him. The next attack was purely improvised; with all the strength he could muster, Rhys bent his head back and threw himself forward, forehead colliding with the bridge of the man’s nose so hard he _felt_ the bone break under the force of his blow.

He heard an ear shattering screech as his head fell back limply against the bed springs, silently watching the man above him flail in agony, one hand that had been holding his cybernetic appendage the entire time drop the arm to cup his busted nose, blood spewing from his nostrils and spilling over his fingers. His other hand flew above him in a weak attempt to gain balance. His fingers bumped the hanging lightbulb above and sent rays of light spinning frenetically around the room.

 _“Eeeeeeeeuuaaaaagh!_ ” The little man screamed, “you…you…l-li’l _bastard_ …my _God_ …you-you!” He wasn’t making any sense, and Rhys acted on that as swiftly as he could. His unbound left leg shot up to try and throw the man off of him, but to his dismay one of the flailing hands managed to catch his ankle in one try, and that’s when another hand, slippery and wet with blood, wrapped around his neck and squeezed.

“You _sonofabitch,_ ” the pirate screamed, _“I_ kill yo’ass fo’dis! I tare’you _apart!”_ He started shaking Rhys by the throat, taking out his full aggression by wringing the younger man’s neck. At that moment it seemed time began to slow, from the way the pirate’s face contorted as he screamed to the way the light threw itself around the room as the lightbulb continued to sway. _Maybe this is what death feels like…time always slows down right before…like on the train…._

His eyes faded into the distance behind the tiny enraged man’s shoulder, staring at absolutely nothing at first, but when the light shifted toward the open door he saw another figure in the room. It was gone as soon as it was there, and the lack of oxygen was taking a heavy toll on Rhys consciousness. Before he had time to dismiss it as a near-death hallucination, two large hands protruded from the darkness over the pirate’s shoulders, shackles wrapped around wrists that dangled broken rusted chains, one hand clenching across the smaller man’s chest and the other enclosing around his bloodied mouth. With a muffled scream, the pirate let go of Rhys’ throat and ankle when he was hoisted off the bed and against the body that submerged from the darkness.

Rhys coughed for air, trying not to inhale any of the blood in his mouth. He kept his eyes on the new presence in the room, not daring to take his sight off of him for a second in fear of it all being a part of some sick last dream before death.

“Didn’t I _just tell_ you, you worthless little _pissant,_ ” Jack’s voice thundered throughout the small room, the dim light exposing pupils so dilated they practically swallowed his irises. His face, neck, clothes, arms, _everything_ about Jack was drenched in blood, even the shackles and chains that hung from his wrists, “that I’d let you talk and do _all_ the shit you wanted to me…but the _second_ you put your hands on him one more _goddamn_ time…”

Jack’s massive hand effectively blocked any plea the pirate had, turning every sound from his throat to suffocated cries. His hands, so much smaller than Jack’s in comparison, punched and slapped at the bigger man with all the fear-fueled strength he could muster, which unsurprisingly would never be enough, no matter how many times over, to stop Jack during a bloodthirsty rampage.

“...I would _fucking end you._ ”

In one swift motion Jack spread his arms apart, taking the man’s head one way and the other hand pulling his neck the opposite direction, a sharp melody of _pops_ and _cracks_ from various cervical vertebrate breaking. After a single convulsion the skag pirate’s body went limp, and Jack tossed the body to the ground at his feet.

For a moment no one moved, save for the heaving of Jack’s chest with every heavy exhale through his blown nostrils.

 _I’m not…really seeing this, am I?_ Rhys didn’t want to believe it wasn’t real. He didn’t want to wake up thinking this was a fantasy in his new captivity…. He tried to blink but had to force his eyelids back open when they threatened to stay closed.

After watching the dead body Jack jerked his head toward Rhys lying limp on the bed, animalistic eyes roaming over the younger man’s condition before he sprung forward to uncuff his ankle from the bed frame, then once the shackles fell he dove for the young man’s wrist above his head and worked hastily to remove it. Rhys stared at him with half lidded eyes, mouth open to allow cool air to his bruised throat. When the shackle fell from his wrist he let his arm drop down limply.

The next assortment of actions seemed to help snap Rhys out of his daze. Large fingers sifted through sweaty chestnut locks, drawing a soft sigh from his lips when those fingers were so much more gentle then the prior ones, and lifted his head up. He felt the heat of a flat calloused palm grace the undamaged side of his face, thumb rubbing soothing circles over his temple.

“Rhys? Hey, hey look at me…”

 _Gladly_ , he thought, but felt too out of it to say anything.

“…Baby, look at me…let me know you’re okay.”

He thought he’d never hear Jack sound so affectionate, especially to him. And _God,_ did he miss it so freaking much… he missed those hands, it felt like eternity since they’d held him like that….

Before he realized what he was doing, Rhys bolted from the bed, ignoring the swimming sensation in his brain, and threw himself square into Jack’s chest, the bigger man letting out a grunt at having to leverage the extra weight. Rhys wrapped his flesh arm around Jack’s torso and fisted his hand into the back of Jack’s vest, trembling fingers clinching for dear life. He dug his face into the bigger man’s shoulder and inhaled. He didn’t care if the Jack currently stunk of fresh blood, he just wanted to know it was _real_ , that Jack was really _here._

“Hey, it’s alright…I got you, sweetheart, I’m here.”

Jack’s arms wound around Rhys’ shivering frame, hands clenching just as tightly into his hair and in the middle of his back, allowing no space between their bodies. The chin clasp of his mask rested against his Echo port. _Somehow, I never doubted you would be here…_

“Jack…I…I’m _so sorry_.” Rhys wasn’t quite sure why he was apologizing, but he yearned to say it, to repeat it until he lost his voice, “…I’m so sorry...so… _so…sorry_ —”

“Rhys, _stop._ ” The command was firm, but not forceful. He pulled Rhys away from him to look him directly in the eyes. They were so soft compared to the demonic ones he’d seen only minutes ago…how this man could change from one extreme to the other was unfathomable….

“None of that matters now, okay?” Jack nodded to accentuate his point, and Rhys nodded slowly with him. “Okay. See? That’s it. That’s over with. In the past. Right now, I need to know if you’re okay…if he did _anything_ to you…” he ghosted his hand over the nasty bruise coloring the swollen right side of Rhys’ face, wincing along with the younger man when his touch proved a little too strong on the sensitive flesh.

Rhys picked up on what he meant immediately and shook his head slowly, “no, he didn’t do anything like that,” and when Jack didn’t seem entirely convinced Rhys added, “I wouldn’t let him.”

“Cuz you’re _fucking_ brave; you know that, kiddo?”

Pride swelled in his chest, welcoming the compliments he’s missed getting spoiled with. Without breaking eye contact Rhys tugged his lips into a large grin, exposing very bloody teeth.

“Cuz I told him I was a _bomb._ ”

That blow to his face _might_ have knocked something other than this tooth loose, but he’d deal with that later. Jack stared at him with a mixture of emotions; concern, shock, and finally he returned half of the grin and let out an exasperated laugh. He shook his head slightly, “I swear…you’re something else, kid.” His eyes glanced to Rhys’ lips before he leaned in quickly to capture them with his own, powerful, hungry, desperate, they each fought for the other’s lips, as if they’d spent _years_ apart. Jack trailed his tongue over Rhys’ teeth, the younger man knowing full well if Jack didn’t like the taste of blood he’d have sure voiced it by now. Or perhaps the kiss just meant that much to him.

When they finally broke apart for air Jack pulled Rhys against him once more, practically cradling him against his chest. His fingers roamed over his body soothingly, their heartbeats entangled, the broken chains attached to the shackles around Jack's wrists jingled against his back. When his hand roamed over Rhys’ shoulder they paused at the metal socket, feeling it quietly. Rhys knew what he was doing instantly; he was _thinking_ , using the empty socket to bolster his thoughts of vengeance and rage. He knew _exactly_ what Jack was doing when the man’s grip on him tightened, and the next chain of words out of his mouth were downright _vindictive._

“We’re gonna put your arm back on…that’s right, and then… _and then,_ we’re gonna strap up, kid. I’m talking _heavy_ shit. And you and I are going _lay waste_  to these skag-fuckers. Nooo mercy, pumpkin…we’ll show them…

“We’ll show _everyone,_ why they should _never_ fuck with _us.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry if that offended anyone! But yes, we all get to end the read on a comforting note that Jack and Rhys are back together and Skag Pirate got his ass handed to him. >:} Nighty night, bitch!
> 
> I don't usually like spoilers, but I will give you guys a hint - you'll VERY SOON *wink wink nudge nudge* find out what the voices are. :) 
> 
> Thank you all for reading and reviewing! All comments welcome! Thanks again!
> 
> As a side note, I often find myself unable to write w/out my music. A few songs that've helped me a long they way are some you may find enjoyable, as I am a lover of sharing music :D
> 
> The Strokes - Heart in a Cage  
> Cage the Elephants - Shake Me Down  
> Big Data - Big Dater  
> Tales from the Borderlands Soundtrack - OF COURSE <3  
> Chris Cornell - Nearly Forgot My Broken Heart  
> Kongos - I'm Only Joking (where I got my AO3 name from lol)  
> Elle King - Ex's & Oh's  
> and much more! Thanks for nerdin out with me ;3


	17. What Lies In the Warehouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay...here it is...THIS IS THE BIG ONE!!! Brace yourselves, because now things are going to start wrapping all the way around and piece together, as this will one of the BIGGEST turning points of the story. Bigger than AI Jack! I wanted to take my time on this one, so it's a huge chapter at close to 8800 words! 
> 
> As always, thank you all for your supportive comments, your wonderful words, and for those of you who catch my ignorant typos and mistakes XD seriously, thank you guys! A little bit of constructive criticism will help me not look like an idiot XD.
> 
> A special shoutout to MariPockiichan and Erinchu who I've had the wonderful pleasure of chatting with today :D You two are so FREAKING SWEET!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is it! 8 MONTHS I've waited for this chapter to pop out of my head and onto the digital screen! So please, buckle up, because this is going to be intense. 
> 
> STRONG CONTENT - a lot of strong language, a lot of gore, and a SHIT TON of angst. I'm not joking, don't let my AO3 name fool you, I'm serious. Strong content, and some very spooky stuff at the end too! So if you're not a scary movie kinda person, you might want to turn on the light lol.
> 
> Enjoy!

“I haven’t heard anything on the Comm from the west wing. Think we should check it out?”

“Nah…I’m sure it’s all good.”

Posted against the thin tarnished wall, two bandits leaned against either side of a small square window looking out into the evening sky, watching milky dots of stars take their place upon the dark blue sky that melted into the eminence of an approaching night in the distance. Though Elpis was not visible from the view, it’s bright light casted shadows on the distant mountains. From the inside looking out, the view almost appeared as an ethereal portrait in contrast to the rusted walls and dim hallways lit through dust that coated the glass of old bulbs.

A pause. A wet cough. An impatient shift from one leg to the other.

“…I don’t know. It shouldn’t be this quiet. Not after all this.”

“Y’know what your problem is? You’re jumpy. Always have been.”

In reply to the comment, the shorter bandit shifted his head and glanced at the other bandit staring off into the distance of Pandora, and regarded him sharply, “that’s my _problem_? It’s not a problem. I’m quick on my feet.”

“You’re a scatterbrain.” The other bandit snorted. “And you’re paranoid. You have no chill.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It _means_ ,” the taller bandit turned his attention from the window to his shorter companion. In a swift adjustment he removed his goggles and bandana from his face to give the other man a more direct stare, “that you are _always_ thinking something’s not right. There’s _always_ something going on. And you know what? It’s not. And you, my friend, end up looking like a dumbass.”

“But…”

“Look, man.” The bandit shifted the SMG in his hand to lean it against the wall and put a semi-comforting hand on the other bandit’s shoulder. “Relax. Everything’s fine. Arbor’s pricing the CEO’s head to our contacts, and the king’s just messin around with that kid with the robot arm. _Nothing_ is going to happen. The _boogyman_ is not gonna pop up out of the darkness and grab you….”

The timing could not have been more perfect for two massive hands to unveil from the darkness behind the taller bandit’s head, cutting him off in mid-sentence and clenching around his skull. Before a startled shout could be ripped from the man’s throat, his head was suddenly jerked viciously to one side, the force of movement too strong for the neck bones to resist. His head lolled forward, body soon following as it dropped lifelessly to the ground.

“Frank!?” The smaller bandit shouted, taking a step back. Just as he’d seen, he felt pressure to each side of his skull. In a fraction of a second, the bandit closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable. What came next was a force that pulled his head to one side, followed by a pain in his neck so overwhelming he dropped to his knees.

“Ah! Shitfuck that hurts!”

“Shit! God, oh…I-I’m sorry! That was meant to break your neck!” Rhys shouted, stepping into the light, hands raised and shaking like he had no idea what to do with them next. He stepped around the man writhing in pain on the floor. Oh jeez, the expectation was _quite_ different than the reality that was taking place.

“Rhys, what the hell was that!?” Jack emerged from the darkness behind the body that was once the bandit named Frank, stepping over the carcass, eyes switching from the other bandit writhing in pain on the ground to a frantic Rhys dotting around the man. “Are you shitting me? I told you to put your shoulders into it!”

“I _did_!” Rhys hissed, “I did exactly like you told me! I-I don’t know, his neck’s too strong, I guess?”

“Yeah, that makes _a lot_ of sense. Blame the guy’s neck for your weak-ass arms.” Jack tutted, hands on his hips and giving Rhys a very disapproving frown. “Take some responsibility, Rhys. Jeezus.”

“Yeah,” moaned the bandit on the ground, “that felt like you didn’t try at all.”

“ _Shut up._ ” Barked both Rhys and Jack before the younger man returned the frown with a defensive one of his own. “I _told_ you I’ve never snapped a guy’s neck before! How do you expect me to do it right the first time?”

Jack rolled his eyes and lolled his head back dramatically. “Oh, _pardon me_ , pumpkin. I didn’t realize we needed to test-run before you were ready. Like, _hey if you don’t break this guy’s neck he’ll shoot you,_ doesn’t make you want to put your heart into it?” He began to pace in steps of threes from left to right, one leg a little stiffer than the other as he limped every other step.

“He _could_ have stabbed me.” The bandit chimed in, pointing at the sword tied around Rhys’ waist.

“Yeah!” Rhys agreed, “I could have stabbed him instead…wait a minute, stop talking! You’re not a part of this!”

“Stabbing’s lame, and it’s messy. You don’t want to leave a trail, kiddo.”

 _Makes sense._ Both Rhys and the bandit nodded in consideration.

“I mean, seriously. You gave him whiplash and then _apologized_! You’re not playing tetherball with your galpals, _Stacy!_ ”

“My manners are subconscious, Jack! I can’t help it! And can we just move on already! He’s still alive, so what do we do now?”

One sigh and eye roll later, Jack bent down to hoist the bandit by his vest from the floor to slam him against the wall, holding him high so his feet dangled off the ground. With one arm pinning the man’s chest to the wall, Jack placed his other hand on the right side of his own torso, an act that Rhys quickly brushed off, the ghost of a wince on Jack’s face going unnoticed as well.

“ _Now_ , princess, we move onto step two, even though you failed step one, as I teach you the art of interrogation.”

“So breaking necks is step one, and interrogating is step two?”

“ _Now_ you’re getting it, sweetheart.”

 _That makes absolutely no sense_ , Rhys thought with a deadpanned expression, but didn’t bother to stop Jack while the man had been in Murder Mode since the minute he’d snapped the pirate king’s neck. There had been a quick moment of intimacy when Jack had cradled Rhys to him, soothing his nerves and whispering gentle reassurance in his ear. He had been extra gentle with helping Rhys attach his arm, Rhys returning the favor in assistance with breaking the shackles around Jack’s wrists, and after a few minutes of patting the young man’s body down and inspecting him for any serious injuries he gave him a quick kiss on the lips and was back to blindly mutilating anything in sight with a heartbeat.

After a moment of strangling, vicious threats, and harsh blows, the bandit was finally ready to talk.

The East Wing, he told them through a broken bloody mouth, was the area of the warehouse that they needed to head for. The entire warehouse was surrounded by an eleven-foot electric fence, but the entrance gate was on the east side where the garages were. If they got to the garages they could steal one of the vehicles and exit through the gate. Sounded simple enough.

However, after a few painful thrusts of Jack’s heel into the man’s spine, he confessed that the East Wing was also where the majority of the bandits posted up, at least twenty men and five Alpha Skags at all times. The chances of both men being able to slip out without being caught were slim to none, unless of course they were to stow away on one of the vehicles as it was preparing to leave. The hardest part would be waiting for a group of bandits to leave the area, the easiest part would be hopping in the trunk.

But the one thing that had Rhys concerned, was what the bandit had mentioned only briefly before his departure out the tiny window, courtesy of Jack’s impatience to get to the vehicles in the East Wing.

“Arbor?” Rhys whispered the name on his lips as they snuck through the shadowed parts of the empty hallway, creeping around the dim lights, pausing at every sound, rushing past every locked door they’d come across. “So…this guys like a right hand or something?”

“Dunno, maybe.” Jack halfheartedly whispered back, his attention more focused on their surroundings as they sought cover in a shadowed corner under a metal stairwell, watching the distant figures of patrolling bandits turn a corner and out of sight.

Rhys sighed, “ _maybe_ if you had let him finish his sentence before throwing him out the window, we’d be a little more informed.”

“Are we doing this right now?” Jack swiveled his head to Rhys with a sour frown. “Arguing? Because _you_ can go right ahead and bitch away, while _I_ keep an eye out and keep us from getting killed. Sound good to you, princess?”

Rhys gave a soured frown of his own right back at Jack. What was up with his attitude? And he wasn’t bitching, he was trying to understand their new potential threat. From what he could gather from the bandit’s speech through a broken jaw was that the pirate king wasn’t the only forceful presence of authority here. In fact, the stunted pirate was literally in control because he _bought_ the entire operation. Apparently the one who gave orders to the bandits and trained the skags was a man called Arbor, who Rhys deemed as the Right Hand Man of this entire establishment.

And if that was true, he needed Jack to understand the chance of there being a more dangerous threat lurking in this warehouse than first imagined.

“Jack…” Rhys tried again, “all I’m saying is that this guy sounds dangerous. Maybe we shouldn’t…”

“He sounds like a Truxican.”

“What’s a Tru…wait, are you even listening to me?”

“Yes, yes, God, I heard you. Something about bad guys, Truxicans, gotta get to the East Wing and hitch a ride on a desert buggy. Got it.” The petulant, impatient tone Rhys could deal with, but if Jack so much as rolled his eyes _one more time…_

Jack suddenly made a motion forward as if to continue up the stairs to the next maze of hallways and rooms, but Rhys decided that before they were to go _anywhere_ , he needed Jack to stop and listen to him. He wasn’t so sure why the need to voice his concern was so strong, but the anxiety quickening his pulse and raising the hair on the back of his neck were signs he couldn’t ignore, and he couldn’t let Jack ignore them either.

He reached out quickly with his flesh hand and managed to grab Jack by his vest and white button up just above his right hip and tugged it back with more strength then he meant to. What he expected to see next was an impatient glare followed by an angry huff and a smartass comment.

The reaction he got instead was something altogether different; he knew he put a little more force into tugging Jack back, but nowhere near hard enough to cause a raw grunt of pain to rumble from the man’s clenched teeth, masked face twisted in obvious misery, the most alarming of it all was when Jack’s right leg buckled, sending him crashing down to one knee.

“Argh, _goddammit_ , Rhys.” Jack growled through heavy breaths, but pain was what Rhys heard, not anger.

“J-Jack?” Rhys sputtered. His palm felt wet, and with a gut sick feeling he looked down at his hand.

It was coated in fresh blood.

“ _Jack!”_ Immediately he dropped to his knees next to the older man, putting both hands on his broad shoulders and firmly placed him against the wall next to the stairwell, swatting away Jack’s attempts to push him off. Shaking hands grabbed the bottom of Jack’s layers of clothes and yanked them up, desperate to prove his fears wrong. _I thought he was lying…_

When he finished peeling away the layers of bloody clothing, his stomach dropped when he could see the large ring of fresh blood soaking through the yellow sweatshirt and white button up, hidden well underneath the leather vest. With a gulp he lifted the yellow sweatshirt and what he saw made him gasp and flinch back.

Jack had tried to hide it, going as far as ripping apart of his shirt to wrap it tight enough to stop the bleeding. Perhaps at the time he was trying to hurry for Rhys’ sake, or all the movement had caused the shifting, but the makeshift wrapping was not enough to cover the narrow puncture wound that adorned the right side of Jack’s stomach just above his hip. He was almost glad he could not see inside the crescent wound with how much blood that bubbled up at the opening, but the terror of realizing just _how_ _much_ blood Jack was losing, even if it was very slow, was enough for Rhys to look back up to Jack with an unspeakably horrified expression, looking into eyes that narrowed with pain and concern.

“I didn’t want you to see it….” Jack admitted softly and calmly, “didn’t want you to freak out.”

Rhys’ eyes flickered back and forth from the wound to Jack’s stare.

_“…Yo’boss tried the’same damn thing…so I gutted his bitchass.”_

“I…I thought he was lying.”

 _“…mo’fucka_ asked _fo’that knife I put’n his belly.”_

“He…” Rhys gulped, forcing the threat of bile from climbing up his throat. Bile or rage he wasn’t sure which one, both tasted rancid in his throat. “He really did stab you.”

“Yeah…he got a good one on ol’Jack.” Jack tried to smirk, and it only pissed Rhys off more watching Jack’s attempt to smile through the pain and play it off like it was a papercut, leaving him to practically drown in his own growing anger. Jack must have noticed, and he grew quiet, listening to his labored breathing time with Rhys’ furious huffs through flared nostrils.

“…he was talking some nasty shit about you.” Jack whispered, causing Rhys to lift his stare from the wound to look at the older man as he added, “kinda shit he was talking about Nisha before was fucked up, but…” blue and green eyes hardened at the memory playing in his head, “…what he was saying about you…what’d he do…y’know it’s bad when it makes _Handsome Jack_ ’s stomach churn,” he paused to look away, checking the area around them just to be safe.

“It’s funny; I must have blacked out, cuz I don’t even remember what I said to him to make him stab me. Must have pissed him off pretty good…”

“You idiot…”

The comment startled both men, and Jack whipped his attention back to his younger companion, taking in the vicious scowl on his bruised and sunburned face, memorizing the new batch of freckles on the bridge of his nose wrinkle with barely contained anger. Rhys’s stare lingered on the stab wound, eyes twitching. “You…you can’t keep putting yourself in harm’s way for me. I mean,” he snorted, “he talks some smack and you get _stabbed_ because of it. He touched me, and you got a cane smashed against your _fucking_ skull…for _God’s sake_ , Jack, you took on a train of bandits, stepped in front of an adult Rakk for me…I… _look at you_ ,” his voice cracked, and he had to gnash his teeth together to keep his jaw from trembling. What stopped the trembling was not the grinding of his teeth, but a calloused hand cupping the underside of his chin and lifting his head up.

“You’re forgetting who sliced a Goliaths arm off so my eyeballs wouldn’t pop out.” Jack spoke firmly, his thumb rubbing soft circles over the purple bruises on Rhys’ cheek, “or got thrown off a train because I wasn’t finished loading my gun. Feeling’s mutual, babe.” He leaned in and stole a quick kiss from the other man’s chapped lips, pulling back with a wide smirk. “That old bastard I use to be didn’t seem to understand the concept of being a Hero. We’re both showing him how it’s done.”

“And that means we’ll watch each other’s backs, we’ll take this whole warehouse down, and we’ll get back to that fucking space station and kick the shit out that blue bastard’s ass.” He leaned in again and this time he leaned his forehead against Rhys’, eyes that burned with determination set fire to Rhys’ wide ones and said the words that Rhys never thought he’d ever hear.

“We’ll get your project back to the way it was, I’ll reclaim my throne, _again_ , and we’ll change the _world_ , babe. We’ll change this entire _galaxy_.”

Rhys found he had nothing to say to such a proclamation. Seeing that wound in Jack’s gut threatened to diminish any hope they had, but now... it was like someone cleared the fog of uncertainty that suffocated his mind, allowing him for the briefest of moments to picture a perfect world…of smiles and no poverty, of happiness and love, and he would do it with Jack; something he’d dreamed about since the beginning.

Three words burned in his brain, crawled up his throat, and opened his mouth… _I love you…_

“I…I lo—“

“ _Freeze!_ ”

Rhys closed his eyes, but Jack jerked his head to the side to meet eyes with the barrel of a gun inches from his face, the bandit standing over them had managed to take advantage of their distracted states. Angry brown eyes, the only part of his face not covered by the dirty old bandana veiling his face, switched from Jack’s shocked stare to Rhys’ still form.

He motioned the gun at them threateningly. “Don’t move, or I’ll take you both out…”

“S _onofabitch_.”

A pause. The bandit blanched, blinking profusely at Rhys before sputtering, “w-what?”

And Rhys, unable to hold in his rage any longer, acted completely on impulse; in one fluid act he turned, grabbed the end of the gun with his flesh hand, jerked the bandit toward him, and sent the man stumbling forward. He reared his cybernetic arm back, clenched his metal fist, and sailed it as hard as he could right into the man’s face. The momentum of face and metal knuckles colliding erupted a sickening melody of cracking bones and squelching skin tearing against the force.

The bandit was out before he hit the ground.

Silence filled the area around them, save for Rhys’ harsh breathing as he stood up to tower over the bandit’s limp body, a snarl on his lips that could rival Jack’s any day.

“Piece of shit…stupid, _stupid_ , asshole…”

“Babe…”

Snapping out of his rage incuded trance, the young brunette turned to see Jack practically paralyzed where he sat, jaw dropped and the most startled, amused, _excited_ look on his face. Never taking his expression off of the other man he lifted himself slowly and adjusted his clothing back into place, careful of his injuries. He leaned down carefully and plucked the gun out of the comatose man’s hands.

After a few blinks, Rhys shook the last fumes of anger from his body and ran a trembling hand through his sweaty brown hair. It was all coming back to him now. “I..I’m sorry, he just…I don’t know what happened, he ruined the moment, and I just…I just…lost it. I’m sorry….”

“Hohoho, pumpkin. Do _not_ apologize for that.” Jack closed the space between them in one limp step, capturing his lips in a heated kiss. “That right there? Keep it up. We’re gonna need _a lot_ more of that to get back to Helios.”

Their second moment was interrupted this time by the overwhelming blare of a warning horn, sounding through every available space in the hallway and bouncing off the walls, its thundering command alerting everyone and everything in the warehouse. During the blaring sounds did follow a bizarre power outage; the horn went silent with the replacement of a loud surge, the dim lights that lit the hallway and staircase shutting off and leaving everything in a moment of complete darkness before humming back to life with another surge of power. Lights flickered back on, generators roared back to life, and the horn continued its dominating call.

Jack and Rhys exchanged curious glances, a _what the hell was that?_ both on their minds until Jack shrugged, “I guess they finally found what was left of their king.”

 

 

 

 

There had been three more spontaneous outages throughout the course of their journey through the warehouse. Rhys blamed it on the condition of the building; that the warehouse was structured with faulty wiring. Jack on the other hand could care less about what caused it and instead stated that it was _good luck_ that had finally rained down on them, as the short blackouts gave them leverage to slink past scurrying bandits and down hallways, taking out a few straying soldiers that got in their way only to slink back into the shadows before being noticed.

To both men’s dismay, the _good luck_ that Jack had graced the sudden events with were not meant for them.

During the fourth power outage, and possibly the longest one recorded, both men had taken a wrong turn while relying on the sensations of touch to guide them. And when the lights surged back on, a grim realization had set in far slower than needed when Jack and Rhys found themselves in a large room, accompanied with a new presence that froze Rhys’ heart with absolute dread.

“I hope you both have enjoyed your tour of my facility.”

 Everything had happened so fast, that when Rhys finally came to grasp his surroundings Jack was already in front of him with an arm outstretched protectively. An impossibly wide room littered with work stations; tables filled with old tools, dismantled guns and pieces of vehicles strewn about. Chains hung down from the ceiling, toolboxes the size of office desks were positioned in various places of the room.

In the midst of the tools, shrapnel, and broken miscellaneous objects, stood a large man—no, scratch that, a _gigantic_ man, whose impossibly broad shoulders carried tattooed arms so swollen with vein-threaded muscles it was a shock to see that a shirt could fit on this man, especially with how wide and utterly ripped this man’s torso was. Caramel colored skin against the dim yellow light above made the man appear much darker then he may have been. And the blond hair only accentuated the color of his skin; yellow-almost-white hair was pulled back tight and bunched up into a neat bun on the back on his head.

Clear blue eyes, the most sky-blue Rhys had ever seen, stared at them with an expression uncanny to any he’d been given while on Pandora. Inquisitive, focused…calm, but not relaxed. Controlled in a way he’d seen the most resolved board members of Hyperion.

The kind of eyes that warned Rhys this man could murder while keeping his pulse rate under eighty.

He stood tall and dominating, surpassing seven feet in height just from first glance. His clothes were different from the bandits that littered the warehouse; instead of an outfit comprised of worn misfit rags, his black shirt clung tight to every groove and bump of muscle he had, cargo pants, and shin-high military boots. Standing to his left was one lone bandit – that the man didn’t need an armada behind him to appear threatening was clearly understood— holding onto a thick chain leading to the collar of a very massive looking Alpha Skag, legs spread out and body arched in a predatory pose, standing next to its monster of a master, saliva dripping thick long trails from its deformed mouth.

They were clearly fucked.

There was nothing more that could be said, Rhys realized as that same dread seized his throat and threatened to crush his heart. They had gotten too sure of themselves, heads so in the clouds that they’d gotten sloppy, and it only took one wrong turn for their earlier hopes and aspirations to come crumbling down in front of them.

But apparently Jack didn’t view their situation the same way Rhys did.

“I _freakin_ called it!” Jack suddenly shouted with a snap of his fingers and a hint of _amusement_ in his tone. His eyes roamed over the bigger man, sizing up his massive stature with a wide grin. He pointed one long finger at him which _actually_ incited the slight lift a curious blond eyebrow.

“I told the kid here you were probably a Truxican. Ya know, training animals, good with business. _Damn_ , I’m good.” He laughed. Rhys stared at the back of Jack’s head as if he’d lost his mind.

“And you’re a _huge_ one at that. Not that I’m surprised,” Jack continued to chuckle, “you Truxicans are just big people. But you guys _sure_ know how to party, I’ll give ya that one. Cool as hell to hang out with.”

 _I’m not sure what’s going on right now,_ Rhys thought, _but I’m pretty sure Jack’s big mouth is gonna get him stabbed again._

“Thank you.” The giant man replied, almost _pleasantly_.

_Thank you?? He got a thank you from a man that looks like he could eat us!?_

“And,” the man started slowly, taking a step toward them with one very large foot. His deep baritone voice bounced off the walls around them as he continued, “while we are exchanging pleasantries, I should also thank you for getting rid of that little rodent problem I had.” _Is he talking about his boss?_ “Bloodline, money, connections; all can often make it very difficult to climb the ranks of an organization on this planet. Had I of gotten my hands dirty, there would have been problems.”

“But to have your captives kill your leader… _well_ ,” the chuckle that came from the man practically rumbled the ground beneath them. Rhys could almost feel the vibrations in his ribcage, “…leaves no suspicion of mutiny. Especially with _who_ our captives are.” He titled his head and graced Jack with a ghost of a smirk. In return, Jack mimicked the man’s expression.

“Anyone ever tell you that you have a great personality for the corporate world? I know some very comfortable positions that you would be _perfect_ for at Hyperion. Or Torgue, because…well, ya know, you’re freakin huge.” Jack spoke with just as much patience as the man in front of him. At first Rhys didn’t understand the interaction between the two; why Jack was taking this all so nonchalantly? A quick glimpse to the right and Rhys suddenly got the answer he was searching for.

The gun they had taken from the bandit he’d knocked out cold was fit snugly into Jack’s pants behind his back, the handle sticking out just enough for him to reach back and grab it. It could work…if Jack could expertly withdraw the gun he’d only have three targets, assuming that the bigger man didn’t need a whole case of shells to bring him down, but it was worth a shot.

The giant man, Arbor from what the bandits called him, took two more giant steps closer until he was only a foot away from Jack, completely shadowing the older man with his giant body, head craning down to look at Jack, who had to crane his neck _up_ just to meet the bigger man’s eyes. Arbor raised a dismissive hand up as he replied calmly, “I will take that as a compliment, even if it was a ploy to distract me.” _Shit._ He leaned in until he was almost on top of Jack and reached his swollen arm around him. Rhys watched those ridiculously massive fingers reach around and pluck the gun from Jack’s pants in one fluid motion, leaning back and tossing the gun to the far side of the room. The gun skipped across the metal floor like a rock dancing upon the surface of water before sliding off into the distance.

_I knew this man was dangerous…_

Arbor stepped back to watch Jack’s hard stare, both men caught in a silent battle of wits. Any other man would have smirked at having duped Jack, but this man’s face remained stone cold and eerily calm.

“Guess I was too obvious, huh?” Jack almost spat, but surprisingly remained impassive.

“Not at all. It was clever, but I see things others don’t.” Arbor answered moderately. He placed his large hands behind his back, and it was amazing how he could bend such muscle bound arms to do anything of the sort. “My ability allows me to take the appropriate steps. Decisions spurred from passion are decisions that will inevitably end in death, such was the case for our puny leader. He fell victim to passionate decision and acted on impulse,” with that being said the man’s blue eyes glanced over to Rhys for the briefest of seconds before flickering them to Jack’s stomach, directly to the stab wound.

“The moment he stabbed you I knew it was a bad business decision.” He turned on the balm of his foot and stepped slowly away from Jack. “While I may be the only person on this planet that could care less for the abominable things you have done to it, there are bidders out there who do…and will pay a _very_ large sum of money to have you alive and intact.” He paused his slow pacing to throw a sideways glance over his left shoulder, “if you were to be sold off with heavy infection, gangrene, or heavy blood loss, your value depreciates, and that is a financial loss I would rather not have.”

“That’s… _comforting_.” Jack stated sarcastically, eyes narrowing bitterly.

“It should be.” Arbor turned around to face both men. His next words were spoken so boldly and so assured it was as if those words were _law._

“You will not escape this place. You will not see another free day, Handsome Jack. This is not personal, just business. I will sell you off to the highest bidder to do whatever they please with you, and I will collect the money and build _my_ empire.”

Those words ripped straight through Rhys, who stood silently behind Jack and watched the entire conversation.

Jack opened his mouth immediately to reply, but was interrupted when the large metal door on the other side of the room swung open, taking all the attention in the room and directing it to a thin lanky bandit stumbling through the entrance in an attempt to catch himself on hasty feet. He leaned over with hands on his knees to catch his breath.

“Sir…” he panted, voice broken and exasperated, “S-Sir…please…your presence is needed in the West Wing.”

The room went quiet then. Arbor tilted his head slowly, calmly, regarding the little bandit quietly, but the frustration in those blue eyes shined brightly with a promise of heavy repercussions for his intrusion. “Your timing is very unfortunate, Riccard. I specifically asked for this moment to be uninterrupted.”

If Rhys noticed the venom seeping out with every word, then the bandit must have, but it seemed whatever urgent matter that was happening in the West Wing was more important, as the bandit shook his head frantically and gave his boss the most pleading look possible.

“I-I’m sorry, Sir…but _this_ … _please,_ I…we _need_ you to come see this…”

No sooner than the bandit had trembled the broken plea from his lips another power surge struck the warehouse, this time much more rapidly than the last few times, only flickering the lights before going back to normal. Arbor’s eyes glanced to the light fixtures above, then quickly back to his subordinate.

“Sir…” the bandit’s tone took on a more frightened edge, whispering as if _something_ could hear him, “…it’s causing the power outages.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Arbor finally nodded at the bandit. Before he left he gave Jack one final glance.

“Watch him. Make sure he does not leave this room.” He commanded the other bandit holding the Alpha Skag. He took one more step, and paused in front of Rhys; the first acknowledgement he’d given the younger man this entire time. To Rhys’ growing worry, those sky blue eyes did not cast him the same intrigued gaze they graced Jack with. No, the look he gave Rhys was one of utter disinterest.

“I have no care for this one.”

With a loud snap of his fingers, he turned and exited the door without another word. Rhys watched the man leave, unknowingly giving his attention to the wrong area of the room, not noticing the way the bandit’s hands let go of the chains that subdued the Alpha Skag, eyes turning back a second too late as the large Pandoran beast let out a chilling howl as it bounded wildly toward the young man, jaw unhinged and every muscle flexing in its desperate sprint to _feast._

There it was again…time slowing down. That only meant one thing.

Petrified, the young brunette took a deep breath and allowed his body to ready itself for the impact. It was the only thing he could do at this point. Perhaps he could have taken a second to say something, like a last word. He could have told Jack not to watch…or…he could have used that last moment to tell Jack what he had tried to earlier…maybe he would have enjoyed knowing Rhys loved him…but he had long ago accepted the fact that he was never and would never be good at these _last seconds before death_ moments.

” _RHYS!!”_ a piercing scream from his right fell on muddled ears. A strong force from that very same direction slammed into Rhys’ shoulder, throwing the young man’s entire body to the left and sent him airborne for only a second before he crashed to the ground to slide across the floor, causing Rhys to close his eyes at the harsh impact.

A guttural growl. A shout. Heavy weight crashing to the floor feet away from him, shuffling panicked movement, all brought Rhys back to the present. He picked himself up with shaky arms and tilted his head, swirling vision trying to steady, to watch the Alpha Skag on top of Jack, massive claws deeply imbedded into the flesh of the fallen man’s chest, roaring indignantly as it pinned Jack beneath it. Its head repeatedly swung down, jaw snapping for a bite but unable to reach with Jack’s arm blocking its blows by a stronghold on its neck, his other hand clamped underneath its powerful jaw and slowly losing the battle for control.

Another ear shattering scream. Rhys scrambled up as fast as he could, not registering his own scream ringing his ears, thinking of nothing else, seeing nothing else, wanting nothing more than to get to Jack. His body fell under a possession that allowed his movements to act on their own swift course, his weight somehow light. He reached for the sword at his hip, unsheathing it, the long blade swinging out to glide along the dank air of the warehouse. The blade inclined perfectly as Rhys advanced on the skag. With the way he moved, every muscle flexing, mouth open and unleashing an emphatic scream, one would think the skag was not the only animal in the room.

Despite the heavy organic armor of calloused skin, the blade had no problem piercing through the hard flesh and bone of the skag’s skull. The animal’s head split like a freshly cut fruit, and it let out a strangled cry of pain with a mighty jerk of its head to try and dislodge the sword stuck in its head, sending blood and brain matter in all directions. After a few wild flails the skag finally dropped lifelessly on top of Jack, who let out a strangled shout at the added weight. Forgetting about the sword entirely, Rhys grabbed the skag’s heavy corpse and threw it to the side, immediately dropping to his knees next to Jack’s body.

His hands shook uncontrollably, hovering above Jack’s torn body unsure of where to place them. His eyes roamed over the older man, horrified at the sight beneath him. Jack groaned loudly, eyes scrunched closed and mouth twisted into a pained scowl. His hand fisted against the metal floor as the pain overcame him, the other hand coming up to his chest, his palm splashing in the blood that coated his chest, fingers dancing over the many deep puncture wounds that littered his chest, gaping holes visible through his shredded clothing.

_This…this can’t be happening…_

“J…Jack…” Rhys let out a frightened sob, finally able to place one hand on his shoulder and the other on the side of the man’s blood splattered face. He leaned over the older man, eyes searching desperately for a coherent reaction.

Fate would give him that, would let up _just_ enough for Rhys to see Jack crack one brilliant green eye, glazed with so much pain it pulled another sob from young man’s lips.

“… _Rhys…”_ his voice was wet and choked; a terrifying telltale sign that blood was pooling internally. _Please…no, please no…this, this has to be a nightmare._

“Fuck,” Jack coughed blood from his mouth, wincing when a single labored breath forced more blood from his open wounds. “ _Argh_ …that…fuckin’urt.”

“Jack...please, Jack j-just breath, o-okay?” Rhys tried to talk over the quiver in his jaw and the sobs that began to pour out of his mouth. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to do. For the first time in his life, he had never felt so _helpless._ When the AI mocked them in the voicemail, the helplessness he felt then could hold no flame compared to this…

And just like then, it was if he could hear the AI mocking him now…laughing in his ears, cackling over his victory; he’d finally taken down the biggest threat to his aspirations of gore and destruction.

_No…this…this isn’t real…this isn’t happening!_

“J-Jack…please, we…” Rhys whimpered, pulling the man closer to him as gently as possible, terrified that one wrong move would shatter the battered man to a million pieces, “n-n-need t-to stop the…the bleeding.” Before he realized what he was doing he was maneuvering Jack’s body into his lap; spreading his legs out, he lifted Jack’s head to place it firmly on his thigh, pulling the older man impossibly closer to him. “ _Please…_ J-Jack…I don’t know…” his sobs overcame him, shaking his shoulders and hiccupping in his chest, “I d-don’t know…how to s-stop the blood…” tears sprung forth from wide eyes, streaming down his face to splash small droplets onto Jack’s cheek.

He didn’t notice the blood soaked hand that reached up warily until he felt the warmth of Jack’s palm on his face, a shaky thumb smearing blood and tears across his cheek. Through the blood and the pain and the gouged wounds, Jack still managed to flash him that stupid smirk…that stupid _stupid_ smirk….

“ _Wow…_ ” Jack breathed, “…n-not sure…I’ve…ever s-seen anyone…cry’fr me…” his words were chocked and slurred, but it forced a rather loud and open mouthed sob from Rhys. “T…Tha’s a new one fer’me.”

“Shut up….shut up, Jack.” Rhys hissed, “stop…just _stop_ …” he dipped his head down, allowing himself to sob uncontrollably as he clutched Jack tightly to him.

In the distance, the urgent shouts of the bandit that held the skag could be heard, drowning under Rhys’ wailing cries.

“It’s _bad,_ dude. It’s _so bad._ The skag got the CEO…dude the guy’s fucking _dying!_ ” The bandit shouted into his communicator, pacing frantically back and forth. “Arbor’s gonna fucking kill me, and…the _fuck_ you mean it doesn’t matter?!” The bandit stopped pacing, listening to whoever on the other line. “What? What is? That…dude, calm down, that makes _no_ sense…yeah…wait…slow down...bullets don’t work? What does that mean?! What are you shooting? _What_?! You can’t _fucking_ shoot darkness, dude, that makes _no_ fucking s…how many are dead?! Okay… _holy shit_ …okay! I’m on my way!”

Ending the call, the bandit grabbed his gun and made for the door with urgency. He stopped when his hand grabbed the knob and turned to look at Rhys, who at the same time had lifted his head to meet the man’s eyes. They stared at each other, no words spoken between them as the bandit’s eyes winced at the sight of a broken man, face covered in bruises, blood, and tears holding a dying man in his arms.

The bandit opened door suddenly, but before he disappeared into the hallway he said, “I…I’m sorry, kid.” And with that, the room was empty.

“…R-Rhys…”

Rhys glanced down at the gargled groan. “Yeah…yeah, Jack, I’m here. I-I’m n-not…not going anywhere.” His metal hand reached up from Jack’s shoulder to smooth back brown and silver strands of hair from the man’s face.

Another power outage brought the entire warehouse in pitch black darkness, and when the lights did not come back on, Rhys cursed; not now, not when he needed to see Jack…he couldn’t afford to lose him in the darkness. Suddenly he thought of his cybernetic arm, and immediately turned the blue flashlight on from the palm of his hand, allowing a blue hue just large enough to shine on them, keeping them from the void nothing around them.

“…wanna…” Jack’s breathing turned to soft wheezing, “…wanna…sleep, Rhysie….”

“No, Jack!” Rhys cried, not able to control the volume of his voice anymore. His hold on Jack squeezed, giving him a very light shake. “No…no, don’t go to sleep, Jack… _please_ ….”

“But…”Jack slurred, eyes beginning to roll back in his head, “…so’tired…”

“Stay awake…f-for me…s-s-stay awake, for _me…” Don’t leave me…don’t leave me here all alone without you._ “Y-You have to stay a-a-awake, Jack…cuz I…cuz I _love you_ ….I love you, Jack…” Rhys sobbed, shaking his head wildly, “don’t…please…I-I love you…I _fucking_ love you, Jack…please….”

_Please don’t leave me._

In the quiet of the room, without the buzzing of the lights and the humming of distant generators, somewhere in the warehouse Rhys could faintly hear noises through the walls between sobs. It was so faint he could easily blame it on his sanity tearing itself apart, but as the sounds became louder, _closer,_ he could vaguely make out what they were.

They were screams…distant gunfire…and _screams_.

 “I…” Jack whispered. His breathing had steadied, but the blood still flowed out of his open wounds. His eyes closed, but his lips still moved, “…I…I love you too… _Angel…_ ”

A heart gripping sound of the large metal door somewhere in the pitch black room slammed open, the sound of scuffling feet and harsh breathing flooded the room and around Rhys. A large thud vibrated across the ground, of something hitting the ground, a hissed melody of curses.

It felt like his body had activated some strange autopilot function, and Rhys watched as his metal hand lifted as if on its own accord and turned the blue light to the source of the noise in the room, it’s light flickering from the trembling of his arm. For a moment he blinked, trying to understand what he was seeing…

It was Arbor.

But this was not the man he saw earlier; the large man who carried an air of ruthless dominance and power, the giant of a man whose eyes could crush you with his sharp blue irises, was currently laying on the floor on his ass, large body curled in on itself with his legs sprawled out in front him, one arm behind him to keep himself upright, other arm flexed out in front of him like a sort of shield, from what Rhys didn’t know. The man’s massive body trembled, his broad chest heaving in gulps of air. The neatly pulled back blond hair had come out of its bun to fall around his face messily. His clothes, once tight and orderly, were hanging off his swollen body in shreds, allowing Rhys to catch a glimpse of shimmering blotches of blood adorning deep jagged gashes on his dark and tattooed skin. So many gashes…they littered his body.

The man didn’t even seem to acknowledge the light or Rhys yet. He kept staring at the open doorway, blue eyes bulging and unblinking. He was _watching_ for something…

With a sharp intake of air, Arbor whipped his head over to meet eyes with Rhys, so fast that it took a second for the young man to realize the bigger man was looking right at him, face gaunt with the most indescribable look of fear Rhys had ever seen on anyone’s face before.

They stared at each other, terrified blue eyes staring deep into Rhys’ lifeless brown and cyber-blue. The man opened his mouth as if to speak, inhaled a few hiccupped breaths through trembling lips, before he whispered…

“…Y-You….”

“…”

Another shaky breath from the massive man’s mouth, “You… _you…_ you b-brought _them_ here.”

_Brought…what?_

“…. _p-please…_ ” what was happening right now…to make such a giant man curl in a ball and plead, “…m-make it stop…make them…make _them_ go away…”

Rhys didn’t respond. Instead he remained where he was, clutching Jack to his body and watching the man with dead eyes as he groveled…but he couldn’t understand why this man was pleading for him to make _it_ stop…make what stop?

The temperature in the room suddenly dropped.

Within the darkness of the night, in the nothing that swallowed the warehouse, the door into the room creaked against a force unknown. A foreign sensation settled into the room, Rhys could feel it on his skin as the hair on his arm stood straight up.

There was someone else in the room with them.

But Rhys didn’t look at the door, not yet, because his attention was too absorbed in the reaction the noise pulled from the bigger man. He watched as Arbor let out a panicked whimper, his big booted heels pushing himself across the floor and away from the door, his eyes watching the entrance, his mouth open to let out a scream he couldn’t vocalize.

And then… a quiet melody…a ringing, but not like the previous sounds Rhys had heard while out in the desert all those times. Those noises were static and buzzy, _this_ noise…was clear, a soft continuous hum similar to a bell, unlike anything Rhys had ever heard. A noise that could sooth raw nerves… kind of like a song.

_A song…_

“P…please….please please please _please,_ m-make them stop!” Arbor began screaming wildly, his flailing feet struggling to catch against the metal floor when he tried to scurry away from the door. “You’re not real! YOU’RE NOT _REAL!!”_

There was something standing at the door, that much Rhys knew. And when whatever it was shifted, an unseen force grabbed Arbor by his thrashing limbs, taking every heavily muscled pound of the man, and dragged him toward the darkness in the blink of an eye, out of Rhys’s light, his fearful screams heard only seconds after his body disappeared, and then…

The screams stopped.

Nothing, but the sound of the humming bell…

_The song…that echoes in the desert at night…_

Rhys brought his handlight back to himself, casting the light over Jack’s still frame still clutched tightly to him, feeling the very weak rise and fall of the man’s bleeding chest.

_They’re real, Jack…they’re real…the desert song…it’s real…_

_“…Rhys~”_

And it was standing right in front of Rhys, just beyond the blue light. He didn’t move an inch at the sudden voice that called out to him, merely inches away.

_“…I found you.”_

There was no static or buzzing this time, and it wasn’t in his head…but _that_ voice had followed him throughout his entire journey across the Pandoran wasteland; a whispered tone as light as a feather, gave no hint of a gender, or even a _species._ Stoic, and yet…there was nothing apathetic about it.

All the stories, from Sasha’s campfire spook to the old woman’s tall tale…it all ended here.

Slowly, Rhys moved the light up directly above him to follow the direction of voice.

_“…I am pleased to be meeting you at last…Rhys~”_

Depictions of grudging specters, wereskags, and mutant humans certainly did _not_ prepare him for the face that stared back at him when the light graced it’s features…and Rhys questioned why his heart did not stop out of sheer fright.

It was the most terrifying thing he’d ever laid eyes on.

An impossibly _long_ and _thin_ body shrouded in black cloaks, it could tower over Arbor’s height easily. Its head, ghost pale and long, held giant black irises that almost swallowed its eyes, leaving a very thin line of white just at the edges near the sockets. _No pupils._ No eyebrows, no hair. Wrapped upon its white head was a shroud of black fabric, hiding ears it may not even have. Its nose was irregular, just as the rest of it was, pointed with small nostrils, no bridge, barely any cartilage.

Its _mouth_ , a straight pale line, colorless lips if it even had any, held an expression of unknown emotion.

The burning in Rhys’ lungs finally made him realize he’d stopped breathing, and, too petrified to move, inhaled a quiet breath.

Slowly, after Rhys had stared long enough at the creature, and the creature staring at Rhys, it almost felt as if it was taking in his features just as he was to it. Maybe…maybe it too was trying to understand what Rhys looked like.

It tilted its head only a fraction to the right, lips opening horrifically to a black mouth as luminescent skin stretched.

It was…trying to smile?

 _“…you do not look well, Rhys~”_ It paused, but never blinked. Did it even have eyelids? _“you are lost?”_

He had no clue what that comment could mean.

Until those black shrouded eyes flickered down from Rhys’ to his lap with a haunting intensity. It only took a second for him to realize what it was looking at.

_Jack._

Instinctively he gripped Jack’s unconscious form tighter and pulled the man to his chest protectively. No way…there was no way he’d let it get _any_ closer to Jack. He was not a part of this, he never was, so Jack was _none_ of its business. He would see to that.

However, when Rhys boldly looked back up to see the creature, he almost flew back with a startled scream as the thing had managed to lean its tall body inward nearly bending over Rhys and Jack, its eyes never leaving the older man in his arms.

_“…his pulse is fading…”_

_What!? Jack!_ Rhys gasped at those words, forgetting about the figure towing over him to look at Jack’s pale face, expression always so lively and animated, whether it was wrinkles around his eyes when he was sneering in anger, or when he’d smile big enough to let just a hint of dimples indent his cheeks, was so lifeless and….

From Rhys’ peripheral, the creature flinched. What happened next was something the young man would never be able to explain or fathom…

Jack began to disappear. Regardless of the blue light that shined on them from Rhys’ hand, the shadows began to seep through the light, dominating it, creeping over Jack’s bloodied chest, over his shoulders, his arms, swallowing the unconscious man into the darkness.

Rhys snapped, fear ripping another startled scream from his throat. ”No…NO! Leave him alone!” He grabbed for Jack, the blue light of his hands flailing in all directions over Jack’s body, trying to reclaim what the shadows of the night were taking away from him.

“ _Rest…Rhys~. You will rest for now.”_ Through the darkness the creature lifted its hand, white flesh just like its head, extremely long and thin fingers just like its body, closed in on Rhys’ face.

The young man leaned away, scared out his mind now, trying to pull Jack out of the darkness, trying to get way from it, from the song, from its face, from its hand…!

“Stop… _please_ , stop this!”

But it was too late. The creature’s hand grabbed Rhys’ face, palm planted on his forehead, his fevered flesh prickling at the icy temperature of its soft skin, and as soon as it made contact the frantic brunette was hit with an overwhelming surge of fatigue and lethargy, the same horrific darkness that claimed Jack now seeping into his vision, numbing his arms and legs, forcing his eyes to roll back into his skull.

_“Rest for now, my Rhys~. I will take you away…where no one will ever harm you~”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... I did warn you lol
> 
> For those of you who go to the end, thank you for reading and for those of you who commented your theories and ideas, you guys are freaking awesome!!! I know it must have been a pretty hectic ride, so please feel free to leave a comment and let me know what you think! 
> 
> Until next time!!
> 
> PS: for those of you who mentioned Angel; while this is obviously not Angel...that is very interesting that you mentioned her... ;) you'll have to wait and see as the story progresses!!


	18. I Woke Up Like This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy fanfic writer appreciation day everyone! Here's to all of you who have been so supportive and invested your time and interest in my story! I would be nothing without your inspirational fuel to keep going. Your comments, bookmarks, kudos, I appreciate them all. And to all of you Rhack writers out there, thank you for making this fandom so unspeakably awesome for the rest of us. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter might confuse some of you, might change your theory, so I apologize in advance but I promise to explain everything very soon! For now, you all deserve a little less angst, so here ya go! Enjoy!
> 
> Warnings: strong language, mentions of gore, scary weird creature

“…ys…”

“…hys.”

“…Rhys.”

“ _Rhys.”_

A quiet pause.

“...Get up, string bean! I know you can hear me!”

The rough bark in Rhys’ ear flinched him into consciousness, and he groaned through the lethargic haze of his deep sleep –the best sleep he could remember getting in a week— and rubbed his eyes sluggishly with the sleeve of his suit jacket. His body shifted slowly until he was able to lift himself up on his elbows and let the small tattered blanket pool down into his lap, blurred vision clearing until Rhys could decipher reality from delusion.

The scenery around him seemed in order. The camp was still as it was when he last saw it; the massive body of the van blocking the gusty night winds from him and his companions all sleeping quietly in their bundles of makeshift blankets and rags around a now dying fire, its embers alive and glowing a dim burning red bright enough for Rhys to confirm that his friends were still lost in their slumber; Vaughn, laying with his back facing the camp, curled in on himself under a small green blanket, Sasha sprawled out, limbs flailed in every direction and mouth agape, and Fiona lying flat on her back with her head elevated on a small old pillow, hat veiling her face, one leg crossed over the other and her hands entwined together pleasantly perched on her tummy.

And when the young brunette threw his glance to his immediate right he was welcomed to a new addition to the camp, and grumbled irritated nothings under his breath as he glared holes into the glowing blue pixelated figure sitting back on his bottom, legs spread and elbows resting on lifted knees, returning the glare with a smug smirk.

“Well, don’t you look like a radiant rainbow when you wake up?” Holographic shoulders bounced with each deep chuckle, and the AI watched on with the most annoying amusement.

“ _Mm_ ’what do you want, Jack?” Rhys grumbled tiredly, finishing his question with a hard yawn before it was rudely interrupted by a wild gust of cold air that managed to whip past the van to prickle any exposed flesh.

“What? I can’t have a nice little chat with my favorite meat prison?” Jack pouted mockingly, the humor reaching his eyes with a more antagonistic leer.

Rhys answered with a tilt of his head and a look that said _get on with it_. Jack must have taken the hint, for he let out a huff of laughter and maneuvered himself in a way real humans did when they wanted a more comfortable position. Whoever that Naka-whatshisface was, he must have spent a long time replicating his hero in great detail…a very _creepy_ amount of detail.

Jack turned his attention back to the dim fire and shrugged, “lots of thinking. Hopped on the Echonet for some browsing while you were passed out—”

“Is that why I had dreams of Eden Girls Gone Wild?”

“—it’s rude to interrupt an adult when they’re talking, sweetheart. Pipe down. _Anyway_ , some, uh, things popped up that really got me thinking,” he paused to tilt his head and shrug one shoulder but not once had he looked away from the smoldering wood as he continued, “…er, whatever it is I do since I don’t technically have a brain, but yeah…. _a lot_ of _thinking_ …”

There was an awkward silence between the two of them that went overlooked by Rhys who instead focused his attention on the AI’s words with growing curiosity; too stammered and hesitant for any version of Handsome Jack whether alive or holographic.

“About what? That you’re blue, but if you were green you would die?” Rhys couldn’t help himself, and despite the deadpanned expression he received in reply, it was worth it.

“ _Comedy gold_ right there,” sarcasm practically dripped off each word, “do me a favor and keep that _precious_ sense of humor to yourself, pumpkin. I feel like you’ll get more laughs that way.”

Still totally worth it.

Their moment of comic relief transitioned too quickly for Rhys to prepare for the tilt of the mood in the air, and he watched Jack’s hard stare at the fire intently. A strange sentiment washed the rest of the drowsy lackadaisical feeling from Rhys’ mind, pulling him up into a sitting position with knees curling up against his chest and wrapped his long arms around them. With a chin propped up on knee, Rhys looked away to mimic Jack’s intent stare into the diminishing fire. He was still adjusting to sharing brain space with the ghost of the one and only Hero of Hyperion, _the_ Handsome Jack, _the_ face of the largest most profitable weapons manufacturing companies in this known region of the universe, so if this was one of those momentous occasions where Rhys would get to know a little more about the man, he would gladly give his full attention, even if he was ripped from a peaceful sleep for it.

The young Hyperion expected a slew of reminders about why Pandora sucked, or boastful tales of his bandit-conquering, fortune-making, heroic badassery, but what Jack said next torched those thoughts right out of his head.

“…you… ever heard of _The Nothing_?” Jack’s tone adopted a lower volume, distant, as if he’d thrown it in the air to catch in the breeze and float around them. Rhys remained quiet, knowing the AI would continue even if unanswered.

“It’s like…” he began, but immediately paused. He was processing his next words carefully, “…like a… _hm_ …you know how some people believe in an afterlife? Y’know, like pearly white gates and clouds if you’re good, fire and brimstone if you’re bad?”

 _Woah, wasn’t expecting that._ Rhys was ready for a one-sided conversation, not a debate on an otherwise sensitive topic. He bit his bottom lip nervously and chanced a quick glance at Jack from the corner of his eye before turning back to the fire. How could he answer that? Was this a trap? Was he supposed to just agree with everything he had to say? That would probably be the best course of action, less he spent the remainder of the night nursing the CEO’s infamous temper.

He opened his mouth to reply but snapped it shut when Jack added, “and then…there’s people that believe in _nothing_ afterwards…everything shuts down and… _poof!_ ” He flailed one hand in emphasis, “you’re gone. That’s it. Lights out.”

Pixelated eyes turned to Rhys, roaming over his frame. “But what if…there was another ending. Hear me out… _what if_ , after everything is gone, you _still_ had your thoughts. You can’t see, can’t feel, can’t hear anything. You don’t have a body, so you can’t move even if you thought you could. Everything’s… _gone,_ accept the ability to think about everything and nothing. Time…time doesn’t even exist _there_ … in The Nothing.” The way Jack seemed to shift; left foot tapping on the ground it never actually touched, eyes narrowed and lost within an unforeseen obsession boiling within this highly advanced AI’s programming, something he’d read online, or perhaps even witnessed personally, seemed to disturb him deeply.

This was getting a little _too_ real for Rhys, and by habit he raised his hand up to rub the back of his neck awkwardly. Between the alarming topic of conversation and the AI’s impenetrable stare, his body began to squirm uncomfortably.

“Well, I mean…” Rhys started slowly, “that…is not an afterlife I would hope to have….” His words dwindled to quiet mumbles under his breath. Jack didn’t answer, leaving the conversation at that for the moment. It was a good three minutes of silently staring at the fire before Rhys decided to ask the question that perhaps Jack wanted him to vocalize this entire time.

“Jack…” Rhys sighed, “what made you bring that up?”

From the other side of the fire, Sasha unleashed a snort so loud it stirred her out of her deep slumber to jerk a fist in the air at an unknown opponent from her dreams, and the force of the movement threw her onto her side. Rhys tightened his lips to contain his gasp. Was he too loud?

Elegant lids flickered open to reveal two glazed green eyes, and when Sasha regained enough consciousness to spot Rhys staring at her quietly from across the camp it welcomed a troubled frown from her youthful face.

“Rhys…mm, why’re you staring at me?”

Getting caught talking to yourself, or staring creepily at a sleeping young woman? Rhys weighed the scales, and wished that for once the outcome would not be inevitable humiliation.

“Um…hehe,” he tried to smile, and when her frown deepened he quickly spouted, “I..I, uh, I thought I heard something, but…just your God awful snoring, that’s all. You _might_ want to get that looked at, by the way.” Good save to prevent his sanity from being questioned, but it definitely set him back in the charming department.

“…screw you, code monkey.” Sasha rolled her eyes and huffed. She turned on her side with a few wiggles until she was comfortably snug with her back facing Rhys. After a few tense seconds he could hear her breathing steady into a gentle rhythm, and he let out a deep shoulder-slumping exhale of breath to steady his frazzled nerves. That was a close one…he really should pay attention to the volume of his voice if he wanted to chance talking to Jack in front of his companions.

“Dodged that bullet. So, what’s on your mind, J—”

“Who are you talking to?”

_Shit._

The entire time Rhys had been awake he’d only considered the sleeping group around him and Jack’s presence, but he could have punched himself at this very moment when he immediately realized he was missing one _very_ important, _very_ intimidating member of their small pact.

An overbearing presence right behind Rhys prickled the hair on the back of his neck. He didn’t have to turn around to know who was standing over him so intently.

Rhys cleared his throat. “Erhm…h-hey, Athena,” perhaps a sweet innocent tone would disgust the stone cold assassin enough to drop the subject like a sack of rocks, “heh, not s-sure I understand your question?” He braced himself for her retort, visibly tensing for it. But it never came. Rhys quickly looked to his right, and was surprised to see Jack was no longer there, had vanished back into the realm of Rhys’ cybernetics.

 “… _Rhys.”_

The next voice behind him was _not_ Athena’s.

_“Who are you speaking to, Rhys~?”_

He knew that voice…

An unknown force compelled Rhys to turn around slowly to address whoever was leaning over him, tilting his body halfway to turn his head over his shoulder, eyes catching onto a dark silhouette, long and thin, dragging them up until he realized what he was looking at, and a surge of overwhelming fear took hold of his body, paralyzing him where he sat. A porcelain-white face, eyes large and round, irises blown and swollen black. Mouth agape, long cloaked arms outstretched around Rhys’ body, white spider fingers splayed out wide as they closed in on him.

  _No…_

The arm propping Rhys up _sunk_ , and the young man let out yelp in shock when he began to fall back. If there was any closer a comparison Rhys could apply to the confusing new sensation, it would be like someone dunking him into a large body of thick water, pulling him in and with no amount of strength could he fight back. He lifted his arms and legs in an attempt to fight it, bucking his body upward with desperation in each wild flail to break away from the forces beneath him…of hands…strong hands that grabbed him, pulled at his clothes and his skin, dragging him into the depths of what he could not see.

He was sinking…he would drown. With a fortitude fueled by outright panic Rhys managed to rip one arm loose and shot it straight up above his head, metal fingers stretching out in vain for _It_ to react, to do something, _anything,_ help him…

_Please…please help me…_

He felt the hands that burst from the black ocean beneath him grab his neck, reaching for his face, rake through his hair, and with one last harsh tug the fight was lost, and Rhys could do nothing as his body was submerged into the nothing…

_…into the nothing…_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was funny; that no matter how many occasions Rhys would find himself surging from sleep, either by torturous nightmares or jostled awake by a force in his reality, he would think a sort of tolerance would have been built up by now, allowing Rhys to comfortably coast from a bad wake up without freaking out or dealing with insufferable vulnerability and crippling anxiety.

So for the third time since he’d woken up screaming and flailing, his eyes roamed over the small room around him taking in _every_ bit of detail that the last two observations didn’t catch.

So much for a tolerance.

Four windowless walls; reinforced steel blending with dense stone bricks. On each wall positioned directly in the middle were brilliantly lit torches. A green plant-like substance – moss? – seeped through the cracks in the stone, spreading over the stone but not over the steel. It explained the organic aroma of the dim room; a wet dirt kind of smell entangling with aged metal. It was fresh. A new smell.

The second observation brought about the fact that he was currently lying in a bed. A _bed._ Granted, what would have been a mattress was basically three layers of stacked stone bricks, and between him and the bricks were countless layers of stiff old blankets, fabric he’d definitely seen somewhere before…emergency blankets compacted and stored in military first aid kits, currently serving as a cushion to the makeshift pallet.

And he was laying in this bed…naked.

After a nifty little breathing technique to calm himself and a thorough check that he was still intact, no new scars hinting at a stolen organ or anything irregular, it took no time to find his clothes laying out on the edge of his bed, crumpled together but nonetheless all there.

 _Something undressed me…that’s fine. All good. Deeply disturbing, but it’s cool._ He quickly decided not to dwell on that for very long.

Rhys scrambled for his clothing, grabbing fistfuls and wanting nothing more than to be fully dressed if he was going to find out just what the _fuck_ was going on right now, but the texture of his dress shirt when he hugged it to his chest made him halt his frenetic movements. He held the shirt out for inspection, ran his flesh hand over the material, fingers probing the fabric gently. He dropped the shirt and grabbed his pants to repeat the same action.

It didn’t make any sense. Why, of all things to consider…? Where was the past few day’s buildup of dirt and grime? The splotches of dried blood from _at least_ four different people and two different types of animals? The small holes and tears were patched up, mended in a way to where Rhys could see no trace of sewing or stitching.

”What… the _fuck_.” This was almost too much to take.

_Something undressed me, and washed my clothes…_

Just another odd spectacle to store away for future contemplation. For now, there were more important things to worry about than free dry cleaning. He dressed quickly, ignoring the awkward fact that his socks _and_ shoes had been cleaned also, and stood up to finish buttoning his shirt. For now, he would choose to ignore the odd and abnormal, and instead keep his attention on what was most important…

And that was remembering how he’d gotten to this very room.

Did his memories _always_ feel so scrambled? Was that normal? Like picking falling feathers from the air, Rhys scrambled to grasp memories and struggled to piece them together in a butchered timeline. He plopped his weight down on the edge of the bed. Fingers combed through wavy locks of chestnut brown hair and pulled back to massage the ache in his temples. His chest heaved in timed breaths. _Breath in…breath out…breath in…_

_And remember…remember the golden grin of the Skag Pirate…warehouse…the Travel Station was a trap…he took my arm …I-I couldn’t snap that man’s neck…flickering lights…he had no use for me…_

Rhys closed his eyes and leaned his head down, his lids playing widescreen to footages of memories come and gone.

_…it was him…he sicced that skag on me...and Jack…_

A hand flew to Rhys’ mouth, effectively forcing down the surge of vomit and muffling a loud gasp. The feeling of reliving something all over again…all those emotions condensed into one moment…it made his stomach churn _…I couldn’t stop the bleeding, a-and he fell asleep…_

_And then It appeared._

Rhys tore his hand away from his mouth to wipe his eyes, stood up, and stared straight at the wide metal door in front of the bed. A normal door, with knobs and hinges, it was the most normal looking object in this room, but on the other side of it lurked a terrifying unknown, waiting…waiting for Rhys to take one step out of that room to pounce.

The young brunette gulped hard, tempted now more than before to take a cautious step back, but chose to hold his ground.

As the last memory flashed across Rhys’ eyes, he bolted for the door. There was no questioning it; that thing, whatever _It_ was, had taken Jack. Ripped from his light and dragged into the darkness just like the stories told, just like Arbor as he bore witness to the man’s brutal fate.

But this wouldn’t be like those other times. Rhys would get Jack back, no matter what force stood in his way.

Until he wrenched the door open and stepped into the hallway…

…and met eyes with wide, glowing purple irises, pupils a slender vertical slit instead of the normal sphere of a humans. No, not glowing… _illuminating_ , the torches that adorned each side of the lengthy hallways in each direction lit the area just so Rhys could catch a glimpse of what was _definitely_ not a long, tall body with white skin and a haunting face.

So caught up in the rush of his rescue strategy, the sudden sight of glowing reptilian eyes erupted a very high pitched scream of terror from Rhys’ throat so quick and instinctual he realized halfway through that it was him screaming. The new creature dwelling within the hallway let out a screech of its own, a much higher pitch than Rhys’ hysterical wails.

The screams could have lasted much longer had it not been for both human and creature tripping backwards simultaneously to fall back on their asses. Rhys scrambled back using his scurrying feet, the purple-eyed being scurrying on all fours a few feet of distance away, a long spindly tail, large at the base of its lower back, slimming in width to a small blunt end, roped around it’s body protectively.

Neither moved for a good while. Rhys took the opportunity for a quick scan, and roared his Echo eye to life, an unforeseen flinch coming from the creature when it must have seen the man’s eye light up.

 

_**ECHO EYE 2.1** _

 

_**ANALYSIS COMPLETE** _

 

 _**Species:** _ _Unidentified_

_**Height:** _ _4ft, 7in ; 55in ; 139.7cm_

_**Weight:** _ _Est. 46.3kg ; 102Ib_

_**Spoken Language:** _ _Unidentified_

_**Blood Type:** _ _Unidentified_

Rhys immediately turned his Echo off; it was a waste of time scanning whatever this thing was. He could tell more about it just by looking at the damn thing with his organic eye. And so he did, taking in every detail of the little… _monster_ thing.

 

Starting with its eyes; a powerful bright purple-almost magenta color twinkling at him from behind the elongated arms and hind legs that shielded its body from Rhys, who still couldn’t wrap his brain around why it took on a defensive pose. Did it really think Rhys was a threat? Seriously? When the thing that coward currently adorned big rocky horns on its head that could shred through a human’s chest as if cutting butter? More horns protruded from the curve of its spine in two rows, the biggest ones settled on its shoulders. At the bend of the creature’s knees and elbows were something, whether irregular bone protrusion or layers of callous, jutted out in points, blunt but potentially lethal.

 

The thighs on that thing were, well…impressive. Not legs one would want to get kicked by, as they were quite muscular, but thinned out just short of its… was that a knee or a heel? Was that long stretch of legs at the end the…feet? So its point of balance was the balm of its ridiculously arched feet? There were certain parts of the creature’s body that were irregularly thin, like its torso and feet, and irregularly thick in other areas, like those powerful looking thighs and shoulders.

 

Its face…was strangely, almost disturbingly, humanoid. Save for the slight expansion of a snout, the bone structure of its face was a lot like that of a human; two eyes, a nose with two nostrils, a mouth, lips, all symmetrical. Despite the more obvious differences from a human; pointy protracted ears, the top of its head misshapen and warped similar to that of a crown.

 

Not to mention the texture and color of its skin. It looked dry, rough, like bark. A deep gray, hidden beneath the layers of rough skin were soft, dim slivers of purple light, spidering over its body, arms, legs, neck. Similar to…veins.

 

Holy shit, it’s veins could glow purple…like its eyes.

 

Before he knew it, the fear that clenched Rhys’ heart painfully had subsided, replaced by a kind of awe that turned his feral stare to one of dumbfounded amazement that left his jaw hanging. Whatever it was stared back at him with a very similar expression.

 

Until the thing opened its mouth –showing off two rows of very sharp looking teeth— and made a few clicking noises; clacking teeth and finally a wet gargle before closing its mouth.

_Woah…_ Rhys couldn’t believe it. _I think it just tried to speak to me._

 

And then it dawned on the young man; this could very well be the first live interaction humankind has ever made with whatever species this was. This could be big...no, huge. This could go down in history books with his name slapped on it. Scientists and Xenoarcheologists from around the galaxy would give anything to be in his shoes right now. It was an exhilarating thought, which spurred another dawning notion…

 

What would he say to this creature? It could technically be the first time a human attempted to correspond to its species, so what should the first words spoken be? Of course that would be put in the history books. Rhys could handle this. No pressure. He trusted himself to make this wise decision, and opened his mouth to make history.

 

“…Uh…yeah, you too.”

 

The creature tilted its head to the side and blinked.

 

Oh, right. He sucked at these moments. He’d make sure to scratch this part out from the history books.

 

When Rhys opened his mouth to try again, someone behind him beat him to it.

_“Rhys…how pleasant it is to see you awake.”_

 

His blood turned to ice, words rolling back down his tightening throat. He knew he would have to turn around, to face It, but his body would not move. He was petrified. That voice; soft pitched, kissed his ears like smooth silk. Its words flowed like thick molasses. That _voice_ could turn Rhys to stone. Or maybe it had something to do with that voice reminding him of what the owner looked like, _and_ the memory alone immobilized him in place.

 

But it was right behind him.

 

The smaller creature in front of him twitched its pointy ears at hearing Its voice, and those intense purple eyes raised up above Rhys’ head to stare beyond him. In that instant the creature seemed to have lost all fear for Rhys, forgetting its defensive curl to sway its tail around back and forth, almost like it was excited. But before the young Hyperion was finished scrutinizing the little beast’s reaction, it bolted forward in a four-legged sprint, eyes wide and pupils a meager sliver. Rhys flinched and held up an arm to shield himself when he thought the monster would run straight over him, but it was faster than first thought, and no sooner than Rhys watched it take off it was already whizzing past him, forcing his head to turn around and catch a glimpse of its otherworldly speed, wincing back when the creature stopped at Its feet…or length. It was hard to tell if It even had legs or feet with how long the robes were, the ends pooling at the ground.

 

The small gray and purple beast preened at Its feet, rubbing its face and neck fondly against the robes, tail whisking happily in the air before curling around the thin shrouded figure. In a stunning show of returned affection, It leaned its porcelain face down to cast unblinking black eyes down at the creature, one long shrouded arm reaching down to curl a slender ghostly finger underneath its chin, to which the creature emitted a rumble from its broad chest, a purr, at the attention it received.

 

_I’m so fucking lost right now._

_“Are you frightened, Rhys…?”_

Rhys flinched every time It said his name. _It_ always said his name…hell, it was the first word he’d heard the voice say to him all those days ago. Had he’d known _this_ was what had been whispering to him all this time…he would have probably preferred it be insanity induced from severe mental turmoil.

 

And yet…he could argue any ill intent in the question. Was he _ever_ given a reason to fear this thing? A quick glimpse back he could not recall a time that It whispered hideous shit in his ear, maybe some unintelligible lost language, but when It spoke English to him, it wasn’t malicious. In fact, there was the warning about the Skag Pirate…and It even offered assistance to the Alpha Skag’s tracking collars. He’d almost forgotten the brief conversation when he was in the back of the pirate’s desert buggy. It asked him strange questions, but it was directed at his health and well-being.

 

Nothing added up…it didn’t make any sense. How could he trust this thing’s gentle words when he didn’t even know what the hell It was? Or intentions? Or how It had even come to know of Rhys’ existence? He’d seen firsthand, though not clearly, the horrid things this horrifying being could do to a large human being, fuck, an entire warehouse of bandits and Alpha Skags?!

 

And what It did to…

 

Rhys swallowed the fear that threatened to consume him. He picked himself up on trembling legs and willed them to cease their quivering. Evening out his breathing and setting his shoulders, Rhys mimicked what he’d been taught, puffing out his chest and lifting his chin to meet the tall being’s unblinking stare.

 

_Shit, that thing’s freaky looking. I’m not getting use to this anytime soon._

 

 _“…are you frightened, Rhys?”_ It asked again with a tone void of any emotion.

 

“Yes.” Rhys finally answered, his voice stronger and more profound as it bounced off the narrow hallway walls around them. He held his ground. “I’ll be honest with you. I’m absolutely _terrified_. And you know what?” Rhys had never questioned the thing so directly before, and he wasn’t sure he would get a reply.

 

When he didn’t, he continued anyway. “I think, for reasons I haven’t figured out yet, you don’t want me to be…and that’s fine…” he wasn’t sure where he was going with this. Staring at that gaunt and ghostly face was doing a number on his resolve. But he had to remain strong…for himself, for…

 

“…but what frightens me more, is that I-I don’t know where Jack is. I don’t know where my friends are or if they are okay. I don’t know how to stop this world from being destroyed. I’m scared of a lot of things, and you are on the bottom of that list of fears.” _You’re just really fucking creepy looking and an uncomfortable kind of mysterious._

 

“So _please_ ,” Rhys clenched his fists and ground his teeth as he allowed a fraction of his anguish to slip from his lips with his next words, “please tell me what you did with Jack. I need to know where he is. _Please_ tell me.”

 

No being, whether human, or…freakish creature, could turn a blind eye to such a desperate plea, or so Rhys hoped. He waited for the reply, for any shred of reaction it pulled from the creature’s emotionless face. At first it seemed as if It heard nothing the young man had to say, as it just stood there and stared wide eyed at Rhys for the longest time. Finally, with the slightest tilt of its head, that terrifying lipless mouth opened…

_“…What is a **Jacque**?”_

_…What?_ The question almost physically knocked Rhys back, and he blinked dumbly at the creature’s random inquiry. Seriously?

 

Rhys opened his mouth, closed it, ran a hand through his hair, and opened his mouth again. “…um. It’s _Jack._ ”

 

_“Jacque.”_

“No. Jack. _Jaaack._ ”

 

_“That is my answer to you, Rhys.”_

“What is?”

 

_“…Jacque. I do not understand your fear of **Jacque**. Perhaps further elaboration is needed?”_

_Seriously!?_ This was getting ridiculous. Did this thing really not understand who Jack was? Although, perhaps that was for the best in some cases.

 

Rhys sighed, trying his hardest not offend the ethereal being with any impatient tone or body language. “The guy with the mask on his face,” he outlined a square around his face with his fingers in emphasis. “Remember? He was bleeding in my lap when you found us. Y-You took him…from me. I need him back. Please, I just need to know where he is, if he’s okay. Can you do that for me?”

 

The creature’s face came alive then in a sickening way that threatened to still Rhys’ beating heart. He wasn’t even aware the cloaked figure’s massive black irises could shrink, and irises _did not_ shrink so maybe they _were_ pupils this whole time? But when _Its_ eyes suddenly contracted into somewhat smaller black spheres, that freakish mouth opened again, this time much wider than Rhys had ever seen it, stretching out and up, that _smiling_ thing Rhys had seen only so briefly before he lost consciousness.

 

_Just when I thought that thing couldn’t look any more terrifying. Definitely did not want to be proven wrong._

To add salt to the wound, _Its_ next words would prove more disturbing than its facial expression.

 

 _“…I understand now…”_ The hand that caressed the smaller creature raised up at a bent angle above its head, pointing one long slender finger up at the ceiling, still looking at Rhys intently as _It_ added, _“…He who rules the Eye in the Sky…”_ Whatever that meant, it was not comforting. So Itdid know who Jack was…how lovely.

 

That same finger moved, bringing arm and slender body to turn around in a motion so fluid it was as if the thing was gliding. With arm extended out, the slender finger pointed in the direction of the opposite hallway, a long pathway brightly lit by the torches that adorned the walls.

 

_“…you may see to him. Two hallways left beyond the red door…”_

“Yes!” Rhys couldn’t help the elation in his tone, barely contained excitement rumbling through his body. “Thank you… _so_ much, you don’t know how much this—”

 

_“He was laid to rest last night.”_

Brown and cyber-blue eyes widened, the excitement that warmed him replaced by an overwhelming comedown from his high hopes. Somewhere, in the depths of his mind could he hear the piercing sound of glass shattering. _No...no it couldn’t be._

_Laid…to rest._

 

He was well acquainted with that reference…had heard it said to him each time…when his father, and then his mother….

 

_No…_

His foot lifted forward, and before Rhys realized what he was doing he was already in a full speed sprint toward the direction he was told, passing the mysterious creatures who watched his retreating form silently, now forgotten to Rhys, pushed aside by the madcap urge to know the truth…to defy it. Because it wasn’t the truth. Jack was alive. He was _alive_ , dammit. _You fucking promised…you told me we’d change the world, the whole galaxy. Don’t do this to me, you asshole…don’t lie to me again. Not about this._

Fresh hot tears scalded his eyes and blurred his vision, but he finally came to the second hallway perpendicular to the one he was sprinting through, and turned sharply on the balm of his foot, nearly losing his footing and almost slamming into the wall with careless speed. Frustration, despair, all felt like lead weights threatening to pull him to the ground in a ball of hysterical sobs, but he wouldn’t lose it. Not yet. He needed to _see_ it for himself.

 

_Laid to rest…laid to rest. He lost so much blood…what if it was too late? He’d died, alone, surrounded by hideous creatures, while I slept through it all?_

“Stop!” He scolded himself harshly. The doubt was torture, and he couldn’t take it just yet. He had to keep going.

 

Rhys had been bounding down the hallway so fast he could have easily missed the right door had it not been for the flash of dark red from his peripheral, and he dug his heels into the ground to kill his speed, stumbling back until he whirled around to face his destination; aged metal stained a deep red, the only thing keeping him from seeing what could potentially rip away the rest of his brutalized sanity.

 

His heartbeat drummed in his ears, chest heaving to catch his breath, but made no move for the door. What would he see…was he prepared? Jack had look so battered and pale before, chest littered in bleeding holes, blood pouring from his mouth and staining his teeth, those ocean and emerald eyes had scrunched into such agony. Would they be closed, never allowing him to see them again? Would he be colder, paler? Would he look the same? What if these things had already started to feast upon him…?

 

 _“JACK!”_ Rhys screamed, surging forward, one hand grabbing the knob and forcing it open, throwing his metal shoulder into the door _hard_ , and miscalculated how much strength he would need when he practically flew into the room when the door burst open with little resilience, bringing the panicked man to pick himself up from unbalanced feet. His eyes immediately found the bed in the room, and what he saw next left his mouth wide open and his eyes the size of dinner plates, any screams or wails he intended to let out were vacuumed back down his throat.

“Rhysie! Check it out, pumpkin! _I woke up like this!_ ”

 

Jack was not dead, that much was apparent. Oh yes, he was _very_ much alive, and sporting a large, toothy, _dumbass_ grin as he stared at Rhys like an excited child. No blood, no sickeningly deep puncture wounds, all instead replaced by pristine white bandages that wrapped tightly around his bare torso from collarbone to navel. The blood that matted his thick brown and silver locks, that splotched his face, _all gone_. Washed away from the looks of it. Small pillows elevated his head and chest, a large military first aid blanket covered the rest of his assumingly nude body at the hips, large arms raised high to fold behind his head. _This son of a bitch made himself at home!_

But that didn’t even come close to the most puzzling, stupefying sight in the room.

 

Joining Jack’s exuberant stare were at least six pairs of vibrant magenta eyes watching him curiously. Those creatures…they were all huddled close to him, two on either side of him, one sitting on his thighs and turned around to stare at Rhys, and the last one seated to Jack’s right, holding a small ceramic bowl containing what Rhys could see from where he stood were an assortment of small, round, red and orange…berries? Fruit?

 

These creatures that scattered themselves about the bed were different than the thing he’d bumped into prior. Well, they were the same short, horned, rough skinned gray and purple species, but the one in the hallway had broad shoulders and longer horns, beefier legs and a crowned skull. _These_ little beasts bore altered forms of the first one; slender shoulders, smaller horns, their skulls less crowned and more spherical. Higher cheekbones and a softer jaw. They wore tattered rags that provided little-if-any privacy on their chest and lower regions, as if to cover…breasts…and….

 

_Oh._

These creatures were female. And they were all coddling Jack with tiny clawed fingers probing his body, lying next to him, sitting on _his lap,_ and one _very affectionate_ she-creature nuzzling her face against the older man’s bicep and _cooing_. A light brush of scarlet painted Rhys’s cheeks as heat pooled to his face, spreading to warm his ears and forcing his eyes away from the affectionate little quadrupeds to cast lost eyes onto Jack’s bright ones.

 

“So, imagine _my_ surprise when I wake up to find _this!”_ His hands lifted from his briefly to wave over the scene between them. “Scantily clad alien chicks feeding me fruit? Ha! And _they_ said I’d rot in hell. Not sure what’s running the show up there, but they probably typoed when judging my ass, haha!”

 

Rhys flattened his expression to an emotionless stare, but couldn’t help the twitching muscle under his eye. Metal and flesh hands unconsciously curled into tight fists at his sides.

 

“Why are you standing there, kiddo? Come join us! There’s—“ Jack was interrupted by one of the female creatures holding out two small berries, which the man promptly opened his mouth to let them drop into his mouth _as if it wasn’t the weirdest shit he’d ever seen_ and munched happily, “—mm, thanksh’babe. There’s plenty of this fruit stuff. It’s actually pretty good.”

 

_He’s alive…that’s good. That’s really good…. because I’m going to kill him. Ooh, I’m going to choke that stupid smile from his dumbass face!_

Fighting the urge to gnaw his bottom lip to a bloody nub, Rhys evened out his breathing with one large exhale and threw a look at Jack that the man would have to be completely ignorant of their eye-language to miss. Luckily he caught it and returned it with a quirk of his brow, his chewing slowing down until he finally swallowed down the fruit with a frown.

 

“Rhysie?”

 

” _Jack_ …”

 

The pleading tone of voice was all that was needed when Jack suddenly realized what he needed to do. He suddenly sat up, earning soft whines from the alien females who were maneuvered by the older man’s shifting, casting him confused purple glares. Jack waved his hands around to catch their attention and ushered toward the door.

 

“Alright, ladies. Enough fun for today. I need some privacy with my boy here, so c’mon, hit the road.”

 

When the creatures didn’t move, Rhys watched the way Jack began to fluster at their confused exchanged glances between one another. One of the aliens attempted to feed Jack another berry, and with a grunt he waved off the clawed hand. “No, dammit, no more fruit! Everyone _out_! PRI-VA-CY. Not berries!” He shooed them off the bed and pointed to the door. “You’ve all been wonderful, exceptional little ladies and blah blah blah I don’t even think you can understand English so I’ll just say it; Rhys is more important than all of you so beat it.”

 

Granted they may not have understood what Jack was saying, but his body language was enough of a hint, and the short gray beasts crawled off the bed with a unison of whines and mewls, but filtered out of the room without much obstinance, leaving Rhys and Jack to have the room to themselves.

 

As soon as the last alien out shut the door behind her, Jack was the first to open his mouth with a frantic shuffle of his body. “Seriously, babe. All jokes aside, I have _no_ idea what the hell that was.” He pointed a finger at the door. “When I say I woke up like this, I mean it. Scared the shit out of me. They were all _staring_ at me and _touching_ me. Not to mention I think they might have _bathed me_ while I was out, which is creepy as _fuck,_ but whatever…”

 

Jack continued to babble incessantly, and all Rhys could do was amble numbly around the bed until he sat at the edge, face unreadable all the while watching distantly as the older man flailed his arms about and rambled without stopping for a single breath. “…I mean, if you _want_ to be exclusive that’s totally cool, I’m game, but I just went with whatever _that_ was because, _hey,_ it seemed like the best decision at the time. And y’know, I think there might have been something in those berries, ‘cuz I’m feelin a little floaty right now, and my judgement might be a little skewed, just saying…”

 

“Jack.”

 

“…for the record, alien women got that _exotic_ thing going on, but I’m not about that life. I’m a one-hit-wonder kinda guy…wait, _shit_ , _nonono_ , that’s _not_ what I meant. Wrong reference. I’m a _one-person_ kinda guy…”

 

“ _Jack.”_

“…what I’m _trying_ to say, sweetheart, is that my orgy days are _over._ It must be, like, what, twelve years since my last rodeo? Something like that…”

 

“Will you just shut the _fuck_ up for a second?!” Rhys whirled on Jack and screamed, effectively silencing the man’s rambling and snapping his mouth shut, startled blue and green eyes staring at him as if he’d suddenly grew two heads…or a tail, horns, and gray skin. The outburst seemed to quell some of the rage that boiled over Rhys’ frazzled nerves, and the younger man closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, leaning forward to rest elbows on his knees and cradle his head between his hands.

 

The room became quiet, the crackling of the fire from the torches the only sound saving them from absolute silence. Rhys didn’t have to turn around to know Jack was staring at him, he could practically feel the intense gaze directed at his hunched back. He couldn’t understand how he felt…he wanted to wrap his arms around the bigger man and hold him, kiss him _everywhere_ and just lavish his warm skin so full of _life_ and never stop. But a part of him wanted to knock the man’s lights out for being so _stupid_ …he knew it was selfish of him, but he never wanted to remind himself of how close he came to losing the man he felt so, so _enamored_ with.

 

“Rhys?” The way Jack to change the tone of his voice so quickly…from joy, to panic, and now to a gentility that dropped his volume to a low rumble, slow and thick like honey. It just made the internal battle in the younger man’s mind much worse. He soon felt a large warm palm settle on his shoulder, tenderly tugging him back.

 

”…I…” Rhys started, not sure what he was about to say, “… _please_ …don’t do that to me again.”

“Do…?”

 

“ _Die!_ Okay? Die, Jack. Don’t you _ever_ fucking do that to me _again_!” Rhys rode out his temper this time, letting himself go and showing the other man everything he’d been bottling up in hopes Jack would understand, because Rhys certain didn’t. He lunged forward and grabbed Jack by his broad bare shoulders, flesh and metal fingers digging into the thick muscles beneath them, and he must have been one crazy sight to see; hair a curly mess in his face, eyes wild with befuddled emotions.

 

“You…your chest was bleeding _so bad_. I couldn’t…I didn’t know what to do, so I…w-watched you…I _watched_ you…” breathing became tedious and he began to feel suffocated, a lump in his throat too painful to bare, and a sob broke past trembling lips. Rhys watched the other man’s face, not caring what reaction he had, too blinded by the ghastly images that replayed across his eyes. With a defeated slump, his head came down to rest on the sharp protrusion of Jack’s collarbone, feeling the warmth of his skin against the his cool forehead.

 

The first word out of Rhys’ mouth opened a floodgate of sobs that racked his shoulders. “I…watching you _die._ You w-wanted to go to sleep…and I _knew…”_ One hand unlatched from Jack’s shoulder and curled. Rhys threw it down, but failed to put any rage or strength behind it and it landed down on the shoulder with a soft thud. Tears streaked down the young brunette’s cheeks to splash onto the bandages around Jack’s lean torso, the same one tattered with gaping bloody holes torturing his mind. “… _you…_ left me here…you promised me you’d never…”

 

Thick arms enveloped Rhys’ wilted body from either side, pulling him closer to the bandaged chest until he was practically cradled against it, palms planting firmly on his back and at the base of his skull, fingers tugging through mussed hair. Jack said nothing throughout the shifting, but Rhys didn’t mind at all. In fact, it allowed him to hear the faint drum of the man’s heartbeat. A symphony to his ears, a rhythm that soothed his sobs to silent gasps.

 

Jack leaned his head in to plant his lips on the shell of Rhys’ ears, planting a soft kiss as his lips moved across sensitive flesh, “now I _know_ there was something in those berries,” he chuckled lightly, “because no one’s ever cried for me before, so I _must_ be hallucinating.”

 

 _Just like then…_. Rhys finally shook himself out of those memories to raise his head up to meet Jack’s gentle smirk with a teary eyed, red faced scowl. He glowered at the man’s expression. “ _W-Why_ are you laughing?” He snarled incredulously.

 

And his reply was a smile that reached the man’s different colored eyes, removing the fingers from Rhys’ hair to tip his chin bringing his lips to ghost over his own. “Not sure…maybe it’s because I’m alive?” a strange déjà vu set in with those words…he’d heard them somewhere before….

 

”Sometimes, babe,” Jack whispered as their lips touched, “that’s all you can do…it’s amazing, right?” And when Jack’s warm lips met his own, Rhys no longer cared about where he’d heard the man’s words. His arms trailed past Jack’s shoulders to dig needy fingers into his back; pulling, scratching, tugging, not giving a shit about the man’s wrapped wounds. It seemed Jack didn’t care either as he leaned his body forward and curled an arm under the smaller man’s legs, hoisting him from the edge of the bed with no trouble and plopped him right on his lap.

 

Jack tasted sweet, probably from the berries, and it made Rhys hungry for them, _starved_. Their lips fought for the others, teeth sinking into tender flesh, pulling away for only one quick gasp before clashing back together.

 

“ _Mmn…_ promise me...again,” Rhys whispered through exasperated huffs, “… _promise me_ …you’ll never…never leave me.”

 

“Yeah, baby…” Jack hummed, switching from the younger’s plump lips to kiss away the stale tear streaks on his face, “…I promise.”

 

So caught up in the joy of their reunion, neither men noticed the doorknob turn with a small click, the hinges screaming to life as the door creaked open. Jack was the first one to perk up at the door’s squealing hinges, and he opened one eye to look around Rhys’ head to the corner of the room.

 

Rhys found himself pulled away rather hastily. Lips still puckered, he blinked his eyes open to see the older man’s face transition from a soft sultry gaze to a pale skinned, wide eyed horror, mouth slowly dropping open.

 

What was happening right now? “Jack?” Rhys knitted his brows, “what’s wrong?”

 

His reply was a slow, cautious stammer, “…yeah…I _must_ be tripping balls. _Heh,”_ a skeptic laugh jerked Jack’s shoulders, and he lifted a finger to point behind Rhys, “because something straight out of my nightmares is trying to crawl through the door. Kinda wish you could see it, it’s fucking scary. Hallucinations…heh, I swear. Crazy shit, right?”

 

_“Rhys~? You are happy now that Jacque is well?”_

_Oh yeah…_

Rhys turned around to face the door, flinching slightly because he will _never_ get use to seeing that terrifying creature’s appearance, and watched as _Its_ impossibly long body bent to fit in the doorframe, head twisted at an irregular angle as it glided through, long arms already through the frame with fingers planted on either side of the wall, resembling spider legs with the way they danced along the metal surface.

 

The young man sagged his shoulders and sighed, face twisted in concern as he switched from _It_ to Jack’s mortified stare.

 

Here it goes…

 

“Jack…” Rhys started slowly, already planting his hands on the man’s chest for precautionary measures, “take a deep breath, okay?”

 

“ _Okay_ ,” Jack chuckled. He quirked a brow. “Why?”

 

“Because you’re not hallucinating,” Rhys could feel the tension ripple through the man’s pectoral muscles, and he continued despite it, “ _that_ ” he pointed over his shoulder at the black figure now standing tall at the foot of bed, “is real. It, uh…is the reason why we’re not in the warehouse anymore….”

 

Jack seemed torn on who to keep his eyes on, flickering to Rhys before shooting back to the creature staring back at _him_ with those swollen black eyes. From beneath Rhys’ fingers he felt the older man’s breathing still. _Yeah, that’s the fear kicking in._

 

“Jack,” Rhys shifted over to the right so Jack and the creature could see each other clearly.

 

“…Meet The Desert Song.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Jack. Caught with his pants down XD don't worry, it's like he said, he ain't about that life lol. Though I wonder how he's going to react to It.... Friend or Foe? We shall see ;)
> 
> Thanks for reading! All comments welcome! Until next time!


	19. The Breads And The Butters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sorry for the delayed chapter, and I appreciate your patience with me! These past few months have been the busiest of the year for me! Regardless, I wanted to make sure I posted this around September 29th, as that will mark the 1yr anniversary that I started this story :3 I could not have continued this story this long if it wasn't for all of my readers, for those of you who have stuck with my story, from my oldest readers to my newest, thank you all for your support and enjoyment<3 I'd be nothing without you guys!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here ya go! *drops a 9-10K chapter on your laps* a nice little chapter with a little bit of everything in it! Some questions are answered, some hearts are mended, hint bombs are dropped, and hilarity ensues. :) I hope you all enjoy!!! (and sorry for the typos)
> 
> WARNING: This chapter contains strong language, and a nasty little part toward the end ;)
> 
> Enjoy!

“… _huh.”_

Rhys wasn’t quite sure what to expect, no matter how many hypothetical scenarios he’d created in his mind of Jack’s reaction. This wasn’t the type of meeting between two individuals over a home cooked meal, far from any _bring your date home to meet mother_ scenario, so the young man prepared for any outcome.

Even if meant waiting countless minutes for Jack to finally collect himself, slow his flickering eyelids and close his mouth to twitch his face with a jolt of his shoulders and a _huh_ breathlessly escaping his lips.

Rhys’ fingers, still spread comfortingly across Jack’s bandaged pectorals, began to twitch anxiously with whether to hold the older man down or rub soothing circles of reassurance. “Jack?” He finally spoke, a cautious whisper to coax Jack out of his stupor.

The man in question never broke his stare from the ethereal being still standing at the foot of the makeshift bed, stare unblinkingly intense at both Jack and Rhys, as if observing them quietly. Whatever thoughts It had were well masked by the blank expression on its face.

“…the _Desert Song_ ….”

Rhys perked up at the disconcerted comment, and nodded quietly as he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth.

“…the old children’s ghost story…”

Rhys continued to nod.

“…is this... _that_ …staring at me…like it wants to feast on my soul…”

Again, the younger brunette nodded, but tilted his head slightly to the side at the last comment. “I…uh, I don’t think it eats souls…” on that note he swiveled his head back to give the creature a skeptical look.

“You don’t eat souls, do you?”

The ghostly being turned its head slightly to regard Rhys’ question. _“I do not require nutrients of any nature.”_

Rhys turned back to Jack’s shocked expression with a crooked smile of assurance. “See? Soul free diet!”

Any attempt to lighten the mood was overlooked when Jack suddenly narrowed his eyes to slits, and Rhys gulped when he knew that look meant _nothing_ good, and mentally prepared for whatever the older man was about to do.

A loud clap shattered the silence around them, causing Rhys to nearly jump out of his skin when Jack threw his large palms together. A firm nod made it apparent that the older man’s mind was made up, and he gripped Rhys by the shoulders to position him on the other side of the bed. With a few sluggish movements, Jack swung his legs over the edge of the bed and, cautious of his bandaged wounds, lifted himself up to a standing position, making it obvious to _everyone_ in the room that he was bare ass naked when he held the blanket to his crotch with little-to-no modesty.

“Jack?” Rhys squeaked, mind running in a million directions. “What are you doing?”

“Not putting up with any more of this shit, _that’s_ what I’m doing.”

“Uh…?”

And to stand by his reply, Jack marched around the bed to stand directly next to the gangly creature, who in turn shifted its body to face the human, watching as he bowed-up his wrapped chest and squared his shoulders, craning his head up to match its stare with a defiant glare.

 _Oh no, please don’t do what I think you’re about to do._ And what poured out of Jack’s mouth next was unfortunately the very dreaded thing Rhys did _not_ want Jack to do.

“Listen up, _freakshow_ ,” his voice was stern and commanding with a pinch of demeaning as if Jack was talking to one of the lesser-qualified scientists in R&D, “me and Rhysie here have been through one giant _shitstorm_ after another in the last week while on this stupid freakin planet. I’ve been shot at,” he raised a hand up to count each finger as he continued, “strangled by a Goliath, almost froze to death, met my dead grandma, beat up by a midget pimp, mauled by a skag…”

As Jack listed every irrelevant topic to the creature, Rhys couldn’t help but plant his hands on his cheeks and openly gawk, his thoughts dwelling on nothing but the sheer fact that Jack just called this terrifying and very deadly creature a _freakshow._ Did this man’s filter not understand that there was a time and place for _everything_?! Did it work when it wanted to? The entire time the alien-thing had made itself known to Rhys it scared him beyond belief; between the mystery, the words it spoke, the way it looked and carried itself, he would be brazen to stand up to this thing so boldly.

But Jack, like always, defied all logical reasoning and owned every situation like it was his bitch despite the outcome or who and what he was up against in any scenario –in this case insulting this creature while wearing nothing but a blanket over his dick and bandages around his chest– which left Rhys, open mouthed and frozen in fright – or perhaps humiliation? – to fill in the gaping holes where Jack’s rationalism should be.

“…so if you think, for one _goddamn_ second, that you are shoving _anything_ up my ass for your weird-alien-scientific experiments, I will fight you, I will go at you _so hard_ —”

“Jack!” Rhys was between the two faster than even he could realize, pushing against Jack’s body and practically moving stone at how stiff and unyielding the man was in his tangent. The younger man put his advising skills to the absolute test with a firm grip of the bigger man’s shoulders and gave them a shake to bring him back to reality.

“Are you insane!?” He hissed in Jack’s face. It had been a cold minute since he’d have to use his advising skills like it was his profession, but he’d warm up. “This is _not_ the time _or_ the person to talk shit to, okay? So _please_ shut the hell up!”

“I’m not stupid, I know what goes down with aliens, and I’m not gonna let that thing shove a probe up our asses!”

During the entire display did the creature make no move or show even a glimpse of a different reaction to Jack’s spats and threats, instead It quietly listened and remained aloof, but at Jack’s last comment It finally decided to speak up with a tilt of its cloaked head.

_“What manner of penetrating orifices do you speak of, Jacques? I am unfamiliar with this custom.”_

“Oho, don’t play dumb with me, you—what did you just call me? Do I look French to you?!”

“ _Enough_!” Rhys shouted, his tone dropping an octave he wasn’t aware he was capable of, which effectively silenced Jack’s tantrum and unsurprisingly stirred no reaction from the tall cloaked figure behind him. With a deep steady breath Rhys collected himself and threw Jack a reprimanding glare.

After a rather awkward glaring match, Jack relaxed his shoulders and took a step back, shooting a wary eye at the porcelain face over the younger man’s shoulder. He still seemed riled up and ready for a fight, but his submissive step back was more than Rhys expected to get and he’d run a mile with it.

He turned around to face the tall silent creature, taking a few ready breaths before speaking. “I’m sorry for my partner. Not sure if it’s those berries he was fed, or the lack of filter,” he heard the indignant snort behind him but chose to ignore it, “we’ve been through a lot the past few days, so please understand our fatigue and, well…we don’t really understand what’s going on right now. Like, at all.”

The creature listened, massive black pupils never leaving Rhys. When Rhys finished he noticed his words pulled a moment of contemplation from the mysterious being when It raised its long arms in front of itself and slid those thin white hands together to disappear within the folds of its sleeves. He’d never seen It do that before, a strangely human characteristic, and it reminded Rhys of someone pondering their next words carefully.

 _“Your words bring me no affliction...as I have limited knowledge of your language…this planet is not kind to any who inhabit it. Your state of being is relatable in certain ways~.”_ Its voice had a strange ability to sooth nerves, even if its appearance frazzled them. A soft monotone hum, a gentle tranquility with every word. It tilted its head up and cast its eyes only slightly past Rhys to gaze at something behind him. Following the train of sight brought Rhys’ attention to the door frame, where he was met with dozens of pairs of magenta eyes peering into the room from the hallway. Almost doubling over each other, the smaller alien creatures huddled together and watched, a batch of curious faces, male and female, all very short but some taller than others, watched the three occupants of the room they dared not step into.

Curious little creatures. Timid, but their stares bordered on analytical.

Rhys blinked from their audience to steal a quick glimpse at Jack, who’s attention remained grounded on the taller figure with a guarded stare, and finally back to the creature. This may be the best time than any to tie the knot of a few loose ended questions if he could get the intimidating monster to respond to him while he, Jack, the creature itself, and the little gray monsters were all in the same vicinity. The burning need to understand their new chapter in this hellish journey to get home would hopefully be extinguished.

The first question, Rhys decided, would be a simple strategy to lure the creature into a flow that would answer more.

“What are they? Those…little gray guys. Are they from this world?”

His words would linger within the room for seconds before the creature moved to look at Rhys, finding some sort of bizarre humor, a kind of joke only It knew, in the young man’s inquiry when it’s black mouth opened and stretched along its alabaster face.

_“…Rhys~…such an inquiry you have…regarding the remaining aboriginals of this planet~.”_

_Woah._ He should have known; with all the research Hyperion had done on Pandora and crammed into textbooks for the future of the company to learn. But everything he’d been taught, years spent with his nose crunched into books filling his head with theories… were now _completely_ flawed by one simple answer.

“… _Eridians_ …” came a gasp from Rhys’ right. While he was invested in the tall creature, Jack had taken that time to fasten the blanket around his naked frame similar to that of a toga. He stepped toward the door frame slowly, feet dragging across the ground in a way that made him appear entranced. At first it seemed that nothing could draw Jack’s attention away from the ghastly presence in the room, but judging from the bewitched expression on Jack’s face it was apparent that nothing else mattered to him other than these tiny beings.

“You mean to tell me…” Jack whispered, “…that those little gray babes that cuddled me are _the_ Eridians? Holy shit… _hoooooly_ shit. Decades… _decades_ of research…” blue and green eyes sparkled in astonishment, his body stiff but one could see as clear as day that Jack was containing the growing excitement trembling in his limbs. An amusing sight to watch, Rhys couldn’t say he’d ever seen Jack look so blown away, _like a true nerd,_ as he did now. If there was anyone on his planet that could enjoy this mind-blow, it was the very man who had spent countless years and money to find out the secrets of Pandora…despite certain selfish motives behind them, he could trust that _this_ Jack would find more of a childlike wonder in this discovery than that of the selfish, blackhearted man he was copied from.

“Wow,” Rhys breathed, allowing a gentle smile to grace his young face. He turned back to the creature behind the desert stories and allowed the being to observe his smile with shrinking black pupils.

_“Rhys…this knowledge brings you happiness?”_

A weird question, but the slight pitch in Its usually stoic voice felt like a glimpse into its emotions. He shrugged, but kept his smile. “Kind of. More amazing than anything. We…uh, I mean… _humans_ , we thought they were extinct. This is…haha, this is groundbreaking!” _Time to turn off the nerd, Rhys. Now’s not the time._

“Erhm,” he cleared his throat for the next question, “sorry. So, if they are Eridians…are you one too?”

It would be the first direct question about itself that Rhys had ever vocalized. Outwardly he remained calm and collected, but inwardly Rhys was a mess of frayed nerves and muscles screaming with tension. He had to pick his questions carefully…he needed more control of this situation, something both him and Jack had failed to get back during their fight for survival, and more and more did strange occurrences befall them the less and less control and understanding they had. Realizing this, he could somewhat relate to Jack’s hostile reaction to the being who saved them from the warehouse. Perhaps Jack felt this way too; vulnerable, helpless, at the mercy of every peril they came across, losing more leverage of their lives with every passing day.

To be quite honest, Rhys was sick and _fucking_ tired of it too.

_“…No.”_

“Oh.” Damn. He wasn’t expecting such a sharp answer, and it left no invitation for further questioning. He had to think of another question fast, and one that would not erupt the room in hysteria or piss off any terrifying aliens…

_“…I am their Guardian…”_

Rhys lifted his brows in confoundment. He didn’t have to ask a question for the creature to answer…it was by pure choice. _Is it opening up to me?_

 _“…I protect them…from what their world has become…”_ Its black pupils contracted at the sight of Jack kneeled down at the door frame, reaching a hand out slowly to coax one of the curious Eridians into the room from the dim hallway. If the creature was bothered by the action It made no move to stop it, instead taking in the sight with a more observant stare.

“Yeah…I’m sorry about that.” Rhys mumbled under his breath, breaking eye contact to stare at anything but the creature as a wave of guilt crashed against his chest. He wasn’t indirectly the cause, but _was_ apart of one of the many corporations that landed on this planet with nothing on their mind but consuming the minerals and luxuries this planet could offer to fill their greedy pockets, leaving behind the poverty-stricken, the desperate, and the most psychotic to turn the planet into a lawless hell, bringing disease and war with them.

_“Why does sorrow become you?”_

_How am I supposed to answer that?_ “Uh…well…” Rhys bit his lip in thought, “…I guess as a fellow human being…someone should…ya’know…apologize?” _This_ was awkward. How does someone explain an apology without feeling like a bigger piece of shit? Forcing the inhabitants of the planet to a tiny, dark, and dank square of their large world?

The creature glided forward without warning, closing the comfortable distance between Rhys and itself to loom directly over the young man, ripping a startled yelp from Rhys’ mouth. Its arms pulled apart and unveiled its long white hands, raising them up to hover inches from Rhys’ face but showing to attempt to touch him.

He’d never been so close to those overwhelming eyes, so black…void…lifeless.

_“…Rhys meum~…a light amongst the darkness…thesaurum…”_

_Oookay._ Subconsciously, Rhys inched back from the creature with an awkward smile. _This is getting weird…._ “Uh, t-thank you?”

A force from behind Rhys gripped his shoulders, and in one swift movement he was pulled back a few steps out of the alien’s proximity and slightly to the right. The sight of the creature’s face became blurred by a flash of brown hair and a tarnished old military blanket. Blinking out of his stupor the young man was surprised to find the spot he stood only seconds ago was now occupied by Jack who stood inches away from the alien and giving It his best condescending grin.

“Hey there, big guy.” That perky upbeat tone fooled no one as sarcasm practically dripped from each word. “Couldn’t help but notice you buttering up my boy here.” The dark creature had yet to move or lower its hands. Off in the distance stood Rhys gaping like a fish at what he was seeing.

Jack threw a pointed thumb in Rhys’ direction, never taking his stare from the thing in front of him. “That right there? That’s _my_ bread you’re trying to butter. And _no one_ butters my bread but _me_ , understand?”

“ _Jack_!” Rhys squawked, “don’t be rude! And since when am I someone’s _bread_!?”

 _“…bread?”_ The creature asked.

“ _That’s_ right, buddy.”

_“…this bread is Rhys~?”_

“Yup.”

Its pupils contracted as its head tilted slightly. _“I understand now…this **butter** is your claim on Rhys. Human mating is the… **buttering**_ _of the others **bread**?”_

Jack’s shoulders shook, trying to hold in the laugh that desperately wanted to burst forth but he soldiered through the temptation with a straight face. “It sure is, pal.”

_“…tell me, is this a sacred bond…your buttering of Rhys’ bread?”_

One long and loud snort later, Jack looked like he was in pain, “you better believe it.”

 _“…fascinating.”_ The creature leaned back to stand at full height. It regarded the new information fondly. _“Your loyalty to your bread is admirable, Jacques. Dear Rhys~, I will ensure your bread will be buttered by no other.”_

That was Jack’s breaking point, and as soon as he leaned back to unleash a howl of laughter Rhys grabbed him roughly by his bicep and jerked him toward him to hiss in his ear. “I know what you’re doing, and you’re _not_ funny. Don’t teach aliens ridiculous _BS_ about humans.”

Jack nodded as if he understood, failing miserably at hiding his laughter. “ _Totally_ didn’t mean it to go that direction, but it wouldn’t stop saying it. _God_ , that was _so_ hilarious.”

Rhys huffed, cheeks puffed and face a burning scarlet. “I’m _not_ your bread.”

“ _Sure_ you’re not, honey bun.” And just as Rhys was about to jab a knuckle into Jack’s bandaged wounds because _fuck him, he needs to learn a lesson,_ a gargled shriek broke through the air, dissipating any humor bringing everyone out of their individual musing to stare at the doorway. Gone were the small curious faces of the Eridians as whatever had suddenly happened seemed important enough to turn their backs on their new guests. From the commotion outside Jack and Rhys could see one loan Eridian crawl cautiously into the room, the small male’s body trembling, his face distorted in agony and despair. It seemed to call out to their tall alien guardian in their language, but whether understood by the two human men it was apparent that whatever was said was of great urgency.

The creature acted immediately with a swift glide and was at the doorway quicker than the human eye could see. It towered over the cowering alien and whispered something to him in Eridian language, and with that he scurried off back into the hallway with the others. It stood there silently, and for a split second Rhys considered asking what was going on.

But before he could the being spoke. _“…there is a matter I must tend to…I shall leave you both in here. Rest now, and I shall return in time.”_ And with that the figure began to leave the room, until…

“Wait!”

It stopped at the shout, and turned halfway to cast a blank stare at Rhys who had stepped forward with his arm extended out. “I, uh…” he’d have to wait until their next encounter to get the answers he needed, but until then there was one thought that had been waiting for too long. “…thank you. For saving us from those skag pirates…and for saving Jack.” He rammed an elbow into Jack’s ribs, and with a painful grunt Jack growled out, “errgh, little shi…uh, yeah, _thanks_.”

He didn’t expect a _you’re welcome_ in return. He didn’t really expect anything in return, but after a long pause the creature replied back softly.

_“Your existence, Rhys, has brought me great pleasure to observe from the moment you fell from the sky…it would be unfortunate to see you become a memory of once was.”_

So It knew of him before the train incident? Rhys would store that away for future questioning. Rest did sound like a good idea, and the creature showed no intent of harming them, at least not _yet_ anyway, but he’d accept the offering for a time to rest, consider it a gamble if you will, but Rhys had never wanted anything so bad as he wanted one undisturbed night of sleep and regrouping. He’d gladly take that gamble.

There _was_ one other thing that had been bugging the young brunette….

“Before you go…can you tell me your name?” Rhys gulped, both curiosity and apprehension swelling in his gut. The name…the name of the very being that terrified Pandoran settlers and small towns. _He_ was going to be perhaps the first human being to ever find out. He didn’t miss the look Jack gave him, nor did he miss the twitch his question caused the creature’s body. Was there something oddly intimate in asking for an alien’s name?

 _“…my name…?”_ It repeated the question. _“I do not believe the human tongue is capable of pronouncing it, Rhys.”_ It spoke smoothly, like a soft, eerie melody.

“Is there…something I can call you? Another name? I-I mean, you don’t _have_ to if you don’t want to, I, uh, I was just curious....” _Way to go, Rhys. Probably should have brushed up on alien etiquette before asking something like that. Jeez, I hope it’s not some sort of weird alien marriage proposal thing…what if I offended It?_

It turned its head to stare off blankly at nothing in the room, then to the hallway, and finally back to Rhys.

_“…I was once referred to as Caecus…I have been rather fond of that name since…”_

So The Desert Song had a name…

And in a single blink, Caecus was no longer in the room with them, fleeing so fast the door was still swinging to close long after the creature’s departure.

“Huh,” Rhys huffed, a pleasant smile on his face as he reflected on the recent events. He felt…strangely uplifted for some reason, as if a giant overbearing anxiety had just been lifted from his shoulders, making him feel lighter, “well, that went better than…” as soon as he turned to meet Jack with his pleasant smile, the harsh scowl he was given by the older man was intense enough to wipe the smile clean from his face, and he begrudgingly welcomed back the heavy weight of anxiety. “…expected…”

“Jack…” he gulped, “…what’s wrong?”

“Gee, I’m not sure…maybe, _perhaps_ , it could _possibly_ be that, yet _again_ , you’re keeping something very important from me.”

 _Oh…shit._ Cold dread chilled his bones and froze his lungs. When Rhys failed to give the man a hasty reply or excuse, Jack’s scowl deepened into a hateful snarl. Even if he was dressed in nothing but a green toga, there was nothing funny about the look he gave Rhys, or the way his body stiffened and his arms folded tightly across his chest. _Not this again…I’m so stupid…how did I think he wouldn’t find out?_ So caught up in the pandemonium around them, he could honestly say he’d forgotten that Jack still had no idea that Caecus had been speaking to him for the majority of time they’d spent out in the wasteland.

And now, because he’d overlooked this one detail, trying to tell Jack he’d forgotten to tell him, or that he was waiting to tell him the first chance he had, all seemed like pisspoor excuses that would bring them _right_ back to where they were before the skag pirates; spitting at each other, fighting in the dirt. Rhys didn’t think he had the strength for it nor could he bring himself to argue his side.

_I don’t ever want to see that look in your eyes again…when your hand wrapped around my throat…those eyes didn’t see me; you didn’t want to…you looked at me like you wanted me dead. I don’t know if I can handle it this time…_

“ _Rhys_.” Jack growled, and Rhys flinched back. “I’m not stupid. You think I didn’t notice? The familiarity you had with that thing? And how _the hell_ did it know about us falling from the shuttle explosion?”

“Jack…”

“You knew about _that thing_ this entire time, didn’t you?” His voice increased in pitch with every word, sounding utterly disgusted. “Did you know we’d end up here? Don’t tell me…don’t you _dare_ tell me you knew about this from the first _motherfucking_ day we got here!?”

Rhys had to stop him before he worked himself up in to a blind rage. He stepped forward, expression pleading for reason. “No…Jack, _no_ , it’s not like that…”

“ _Goddammit, Rhys_!” Whether Jack tried to sound terrifyingly enraged, it came out more despaired and exhausted than anything, and it tugged painfully at Rhys’ heart. Paralyzed where he stood he could only watch as Jack stepped back until the back of his knees found the edge of the bed, and he allowed himself to drop down onto the edge, any shockwave of pain to his wounds were ignored as he leaned forward to cup his face into his hands, propping his elbows on his knees for support.

Seconds flew by in complete silence, and Rhys waited through each agonizing second for Jack to explode on him, to cut off every attempt to explain himself with a hateful insult to his person or abusive jab. The waiting, he decided after one painful surge of nausea, was more alarming than having Jack throw himself blindly at him. At least with the same repeated reaction he could expect what was to come, but _this…_ this calm before the storm…it terrified him.

Jack finally let out a long sigh into his hands and rubbed his face tiredly, fingers massaging the skin around the hinges of his mask on either side of his forehead. He shook his head softly, and without looking at Rhys he spoke through his fingers, “ _please_ …Rhys…please don’t…don’t do this to me again…”

_He’s not screaming at me…he’s not trying to attack me…_

“…I just…” Jack groaned tiredly, voice hoarse and tight, “…I don’t think I have it in me this time, kiddo. _Fuck me_ , you really know how to hurt a guy…guess I’m a real piece of work if even _you_ won’t let me in…after all this….”

_He’s not going to hurt me…in fact, he’s…_

“Do me a favor will ya, asshole? If you’re gonna sacrifice me to these things, all I ask is to kill me first and eat my face last. Doesn’t seem like a very huge request, so…yeah, whatever—”

“Did those berries you eat kill half of your brain cells are something?”

It flew out of his mouth before he had a chance to catch it, and once he said it he cringed at how harsh question sounded out loud. Well, no going back now. Even Jack seemed utterly stunned by the question; lifting his head from his hands with an appalled expression, hands open and palms up to emphasize his shocked hurt.

“ _Seriously_?”

Fuck it. “Yeah, _seriously_! Have you stopped for one second to actually _listen_ to what I have to say?”

Jack scoffed. “You had all the freakin time before this to tell me what you had to say. The hell does it matter now—”

Rhys was quick to cut him off. “Have you ever considered that _maybe_ your reactions are some of the most terrifying ordeals of a person’s life? You don’t take bad news very well—”

“Maybe I would if I didn’t hear it from _someone_ _else_ right when the shits hitting the fan, Rhys!”

The younger man opened his mouth, but closed it shortly after. Damn, Jack really put him in a box there. He dropped his eyes to the floor next to his shoes, glaring holes at the ground and imagining Jack’s stupid face but not wanting to look at the real thing. His fists clenched at his sides and he took a deep breath. “I know…and I’m sorry. It’s never my intention to leave you in the dark to hurt you, you know this…”

The panic rushed up to meet Rhys sooner than he would have hoped, and the only thing that could come out of his mouth were quivering pants of air between broken sentences. He ran a hand through his hair shakily, nails raking through his scalp. “When I first heard them…t-the voices, it was just static. I thought it was from a shortage in my cybernetics. And then…when I woke up after the train…I-I started hearing words, a-and then short sentences. It got worse and worse… I thought I was g-going crazy.”

“I didn’t know what y-you’d say if I told you…I didn’t want you to worry, or worse…I didn’t want you to think I was turning into a psycho…so I ignored them, I tried _so hard_ to ignore it, and when the skag pirates found us…I didn’t know what else to do, so I listened to them…t-the voices…Jack, I didn’t know what or who they were…”

A shifting noise from the bed landed on deaf ears as Rhys continued to tremble out his confession, all the horrible visions of the last few days coming back to him, prickling his skin, _haunting_ him. “One thing after another…you were freaking out over your grandmother…there was no way I could dump this on you. A-And then Vaughn, the AI, our fight, and… _and_ …!”

Large arms enveloped his body, wrapping the smaller man in a strong embrace. Unlike all the others before this hug was rough and tight, the man’s biceps squeezing him in to the point where _nothing_ could pull him away from Jack’s hold, like that was his intention.

Their chests now pressed together, Jack spread one hand out to splay on Rhys’ back between his shoulder blades, warm lips gracing the shell of his ear, the cold metal of the mask’s hinge from Jack’s chin kissing the flushed skin of his neck, a soothing sensation. “Breath, pumpkin. You’re freaking out. Just shut up and breath, okay? In and out.” The wide hand on his back coaxed him, and the young man followed the simple instruction quietly, focusing his thoughts on nothing but operating his lungs back to their natural function.

A soft chuckled tickled the peach fuzz of his earlobe, no hint of malice or mockery in the whispered laugh. It was tender, too genuine for a man that should have been beyond a boiled over temper. “Sometimes you can be so damn clever you intimidate even _me_. But other times it’s like you traded brains with a Bullymong.” It was a harmless jab, but the kind that built up to one of Jack’s rare show of loving emotions. “Kid, I remember those days when I was the AI in your head. You tried to tell your friends about me. Heh, still remember the look on the little buff nerd’s face; he was seconds away from throwing you in the nearest psych ward.”

“If there’s anyone who’d believe you about voices in your head, it’d be me. I _was_ that voice in your head, remember?”

Rhys had never thought of it that way before…had he of put it in that perspective, maybe telling Jack from the get-go would have been less terrifying.

Jack continued thoughtfully, “All those times in the last few days, when you’d randomly freak out, just thought you were being your normal weird little self. That story that my old lady told us…now I know why it freaked you out so bad…really should have paid more attention….”

“You did,” Rhys countered between deep breaths, inhaling the smell of Jack’s skin, letting the man’s natural musk mend his shredded nerves, “you asked…and I shot you down. I lied to you. I’m _sorry_ … _”_

“Don’t be.” Jack cut him off swiftly, pulling the Rhys to him impossibly closer. “It’s not like I’ve been the most inviting person for you to share your feelings with. You…were just trying to protect yourself…from me.”

The tight embrace ended abruptly after those words, and Rhys was pulled away from the sedation of Jack’s smell to stand at an arm’s length from the bigger man, watching dazedly as the man’s intense eyes roamed his body before zoning in on his face with a softer expression, one more melancholy than the young man was used to seeing, and it perturbed him slightly. Before Rhys could open in mouth in questions his chin was caught by calloused fingers and held firmly so that he could not hide from Jack’s scrutiny.

“If anyone _ever_ tried to hurt you, I would tear them apart with my bare hands.” He stopped to take a long steady breath, his jaw visibly tensing, nostrils flaring. Rhys narrowed his eyes, watching a battle for control raging behind Jack’s resolve. His eyes dropped to Rhys throat looking but not seeing anything but the thoughts warring in his complex mind.

“I Didn’t realize that the same hands I wanted to protect you with were the same ones that tried to end your life.”

Rhys gasped, realizing now what Jack’s inner war was all about. _Guilt_. _Remorse. For me…_

He jumped slightly when Jack leaned forward limply and dropped his head down on the younger’s collarbone, leaving Rhys to stand stiff as stone, brown and cyber blue eyes wide and staring at the opposite wall on the far side of the room, the fingers around his chin withdrawing to let his jaw drop.

Jack let out a falsely-humored laugh and shook his head slowly. “Top notch Hypocrisy, isn’t it?”

There were no further words between them for what felt like centuries in the quiet little room. In the distance the crackling from the torches adorning each wall the only sound saving them from overbearing silence, from being consumed by their overwhelming fears and insecurities.

And then…Jack did something that Rhys never would have expected, not in a _million_ years, even in his wildest most farfetched dreams.

“I’m so sorry, Rhys.”

Rhys didn’t answer. How could he; when one’s planets align just right are there any words worthy enough to explain such a phenomenon? And that’s what Jack’s words did to his heart; leave him slack jawed, wide eyed, and stripped of any intelligible language appropriate enough to respond with.

How Jack took his partners silence remained a mystery, but when his fingers clenched around Rhys’ arms tight enough to bruise, it became apparent that Jack was more worried about Rhys’ reaction to this new exposed side of him that his pride and arrogance would never have allowed be shown on the surface. Was he scared of a rejection to his apology? That no matter the sincerity Rhys would still push it away and continue to be fearful of the man’s rage to the point of leaving him in the lonely darkness of ignorance?

“I’m…I’m not good at this, kid. Never was. But I _mean it_. I’m sorry. I called you all sorts of names, threw you to the ground, all because you were _right._ I… _fuck…_ I can still feel your pulse on my palm when I squeezed your throat…it was beating _so fast_ …”

One blink was all it took to unleash the trails of warm tears down Rhys’ burning cheeks, and he realized after the fact that he just might be crying. But he was too transfixed on Jack’s stuttering confession to notice the knot in his throat, or the erratic beating of his heart. But he wasn’t _sad_ , no, he couldn’t quite describe the emotion he was feeling, but it wasn’t sadness.

“After all that…all that I put you through…here you are.” Jack dug his face deeper into Rhys’ chest, his words muffling against the fabric. “The difference between everyone else and you…is that you’re still here.”

“I’ll _always_ be here with you.” And with that, Rhys decided there was nothing more to be said, but he would _show_ the man just how much he meant that. Hands once numb and lifeless by his sides shot up to grab Jack by the sides of his head and forced his head up to smash his lips with the older man’s rough enough to bust a lip, which was the case when Rhys tasted the coppery tang of blood on his tongue, but who the blood belonged to was the farthest thing on their minds.

Rhys closed his eyes, drowning himself in the salty taste of blood and Jack’s citrusy lips, the sweet of the berries still lingering on his mouth, and the combination drove Rhys hungry for more, starving. His fingers craved to touch and knead and feel, and so they did; greedily roaming over every inch of flesh he could get ahold of starting with the man’s strong neck to glide down over his collarbones, _squeezing_ those magnificently broad shoulders once before ghosting down to thick biceps.

Between the kissing and the biting, Jack had also been occupied with Rhys’ shirt; hands fumbling over each button, threatening to rip through the damn fabric but generous enough to hold back. One by one they came undone until he thrusted his large hands past the shirt to envelope Rhys’ sides, fingers dancing over lean muscle and ribs to stop at the middle of his back and repeat the same action, dropping down to his narrow waist, pulling him forward to rock against his own hips, gripping his hip bones and massaging the sharp protrusions of bone.

“ _Mm…Jack.”_ Rhys moaned against the bigger man’s lips, inhaling as much air as he could before Jack dove his tongue past his parted lips, grinding over his teeth, flickering over the younger man’s tongue edging for a fight, and a fight he so graciously received. While their mouths battled against one another, Jack made quick work of Rhys’ pants; fingers unbuttoning, unzipping, jerking his pants and boxers and all down his creamy thighs, the young man’s enlarging cock bouncing out of the restraints of the fabric to grind freely against the older man’s body. Rhys' feet knew what to do without much instruction, kicking off the skag leather boots somewhere in the room without a care.

Fuck the toga. With one impatient jerk the blanket unwound from Jack’s body to fall forgotten at their feet, eliciting a delicious shiver from the his larger body when the cool air of the room licked at hot flesh. Rhys could feel the tremble under his fingers, and it ripped a primal craving from Rhys for _more_ ; he wanted to feel Jack’s body shiver with need, muscles spasm with a lust so blinding it drove his lover insane.

Lucky for him he would not wait long to get what he yearned for. Without interrupting their intense tongue battle, Jack slid his hands over Rhys’ hips to cup his ass, squeezing the meaty underside of his pert cheeks and without the need for an extra breath lifted him effortlessly off the ground, allowing Rhys to finish the act by swinging his long legs around Jack’s hips, securing his thighs tight around the man and locking his ankles, ensuring Jack would have to crowbar the young man off of him if need be.

In the midst of the passion and rough reckless lust Jack groaned against Rhys’ lips, and the young man froze immediately. He knew the difference between the Jack's groans, and _this_ one was not spurred from pleasure. He broke away to see Jack’s face, a half-lidded stargazed expression probably very similar to his own, and glanced quickly down at the man’s bandaged chest.

“J-Jack,” he whispered, concern consuming lust, “your wounds.”

“Fuck’em.” Jack growled, continuing to ravage the young man’s bruised lips mercilessly.

Rhys broke away again, this time with a look of uncertainty. “But...w-what if...they reopen?”

“Then I’ll die a happy man.” He snarled impatiently, instead going for the pale throat that enticingly caught his eye. He assaulted the soft flesh of Rhys’ throat with countless bites and kisses, stopping between them to suck the skin purple and red. “If you think...” he growled between his attacks, “I’m gonna…stop now…” he chomped down at that moment, moving with the smaller body that quivered against his teeth, “…baby, I’ve been waiting _days_ for this…I suggest you give Daddy what he wants.”

Rhys would _not_ argue with a suggestion like that. However, it didn’t seem quite convincing enough for Rhys to give in. He wanted _more_ , dammit. He didn’t want suggestions, he wanted commands. He retaliated by clamping down around the shell of Jack’s ear, nomming the soft flesh between his teeth, letting out a throaty whine straight into the man’s ear.

“Then _take it_ ,” he hissed through clenched teeth, “own it, Jack. _Own me_.”

How Jack could clear through a room and have Rhys sprawled on the bed in a matter of seconds was a skill the young man would have to inquire about later, and hope to see _much_ more of in future. The next thing he knew he was looking up at Jack’s body hovering above him, blue and green eyes glazed with a feral hunger burning in the depths of those emerald and ocean colors he could get lost in forever.

“ _God_ , Rhys…” the moan rumbled deep in Jack’s chest, “…missed this…missed seeing you so laid out and waiting… _fuck_ , I’m gonna lose my shit before anything happens.” He grinned, and made a move to lowering himself further down Rhys’ body, and as he was about to ravish the young man beneath him, he was blocked by a hand underneath his chin lifting his head up to see Rhys propped up on the elbow of his cybernetic arm, staring down at him with an expression he’d never given Jack before.

With a quirk of his brow, Jack returned the strange look with a curious one of his own. “…what?”

“No.”

Both brows shot straight up, and Rhys was almost tempted to laugh when Jack practically sputtered in reply. “Wha… _no_?”

Rhys raised himself up into a sitting position and with his hand still gripping Jack’s chin brought him up to follow, which the older man did without a word of protest or struggle. Once they were both up Rhys brought his hand down to the broad chest and planted his palm between Jack’s pecs, taking extreme caution not to apply to much pressure to the bandaged area in fear of pressing into any wounds directly, and shoved him down to the bed until Jack’s back planted firmly against the military blankets beneath, following the man’s slow fall with an equally slow saunter down to stop just short of Jack’s throbbing cock standing at full mass inches from his mouth.

He’d never seen Jack’s eyes so alarmingly focused on Rhys like they were now, mixed emotions of confusion, shock, arousal, all directed at his young lover’s bold display of dominance.

“Rhys,” he let out a breathless laugh, “babe, the hell are you—”

“Just lay back. Relax.” Rhys whispered gently in reassurance, a soft smile on his plump lips that reached his eyes so perfectly it hitched the older man’s breathing. “You’re the wounded one here. Just let me take over…I want to make you feel good.”

“Woah…” Jack gasped through his slack jawed stare before letting his head fall back against the blankets, “well by all means, kitten, don’t let me sto _ooaah fuck…sh-shit…Judas Priest,_ that feels good…!” What better way to get the show on the road than to just take your lover in full with one long gulp? And it was the perfect way to turn Jack into the shivering mass of need Rhys had wanted since he first smashed their lips together.

With the head of Jack’s swollen cock fit tightly down the back of his throat, his lips tightened close to the base and squeezed, his flesh fingers wrapping around the rest of the man’s cock that his mouth couldn’t fit. His tongue, with what little room it had, moved against the underside of the hard muscle rubbing circles and intricate patterns along the hot flesh, ripping a chorus of hoarse grunts and intelligible filth from the man’s mouth.

“ _Ungh…_ sweetheart, that mouth of yours… _ah_ …” His hips jerked, bucking into Rhys’ mouth for more. The young man moved up, _up,_ all the way to the tip to gulp him back down inch by inch and repeated the same action, stretched pink lips keeping a tight grip on Jack’s dick and tongue dancing along the stiff muscle, flicking over a certain vein he could feel on the pad of this tongue.

“ _Rhys_ …fuck…t-that’s right, baby, _all_ the way. This…I want this... _every fucking day_ w-when we get home. Under my _-ohfuck-_ my desk, before breakfast, a- _ahshit_ -after lunch… _oh fuck, desert!”_

Rhys bobbed his head in rhythm with Jack’s upward thrusts, remembering to multi-task his lips and tongue, not forgetting to breathe through his nose. He lifted his eyes over the muscled expansion of Jack’s tan belly and bandaged chest to watch his face, and was surprised to see the man staring back at him with heavy-lidded eyes, mouth open and sporting the most wrecked look Rhys had seen on him yet. Usually the man was all sexy smirks and lecherous grins when he had the upper hand, but with the roles reversed he could see why Jack liked to dominate the foreplay; it was hottest thing he’d ever seen, and he couldn’t stop his hip from grinding down on Jack’s leg, trying desperately to ease the pulsating need in his own throbbing cock.

His moment of distraction was clearly noticed, and in one swift tug Rhys was yanked off of Jack’s dick with a wet _pop!_ and thrown forward by strong arms until he sat sprawled across the bigger man’s hips, hands flailing for leverage until they landed on his lover’s shoulders. Large calloused hands reached behind him to spread his ass cheeks apart, a wet thick cock sliding between them repeatedly.

“Ah!” Now it was Rhys' turn to moan and shiver, caught in Jack’s strong grip he could only hold on tight and feel that delicious cock slide against his twitching entrance. “ _J…Jack, not…not fair.”_

“Sorry, babe,” there it was, that wild lecherous grin and cocky attitude was back full force, “you were gettin me close… win any gold metals with that mouth?”

 _Smartass_. “D-Don’t make me laugh during sex, jerk.” Rhys scolded lightly, a crooked smile painting his lips despite it. He reached down to melt their smiles together in another passionate kiss, and while Rhys lost himself into their locked lips Jack took the opportunity to wiggle his middle finger passed the tight muscled whole, saliva and precum an already convenient lubricate, and forced his way in to the last knuckle.

 _“Mmnh!”_ Rhys cried into the kiss, arching his back as the mixture of discomfort and pleasure rode his body hard. Oh, it had _definitely_ been a while. “ _MmnnJaack.”_

“Pumpkin, you’re so _tight_.” Jack snickered against his lips. “We’re gonna need _few_ more in there before you can take me.” And before Rhys could prepare, Jack inched a second finger inside him, wiggling against his hot walls, stretching him out for the third finger already inviting itself in. He broke the kiss and whipped his head back to wail into air, only to have two rough fingers slide into his open mouth.

“Gonna need you coat them good, baby doll.” Jack reminded him, “we don’t have any lube, and I’m not about to ask these ass-probing aliens for any of theirs.”

Rhys made a mental note to smack him for that offhand comment later, for now he sucked on the fingers hastily, coating them with as much saliva as he could make. They popped out of his mouth shortly after to venture back down proceeding to prep both Rhys’ ass and Jack’s cock with the makeshift lubricant. The young brunette closed his eyes and raised his hips up, aiming his whole with the tip. He exhaled a shaky breath, allowed his body to relax, and slid down slowly onto the older man’s length, taking in every burning sensation, every massive inch filling him up _so painfully good_.

And Jack was patient, tender, whispering sweet words into his neck as he planted gentle kisses along the younger's throat while he waited for Rhys to adjust to his size.

“Feel so good, kitten. I missed this…missed how good you feel wrapped around my cock.” He moved his hands to clamp around the small hips above his, pushing his young lover down to help him through the thickest inches of his dick, eyes mesmerized by the beautiful sight of his blushing partner above him, sweat shining off his pale skin, brown locks a mess of wavy ringlets, flushed face contorted in a mix of pain and pleasure. “ _Damn_ …” he whispered, “I’ve never seen you like this before, sugar. Fucking gorgeous, babe.” He let out a long moan when Rhys cracked one blue eye in response to Jack’s dreamy comment, “ _fuck_ , can you take a man’s breath away….”

Unlike all the last times they slept together, this was by far the most vocal Jack had ever been. It was also the most intimate; he’d never gushed over him before, and the words that left Jack’s panting lips was enough to fuel Rhys to retake the reigns. He lifted his ass up and brought it back down on Jack’s cock, ripping gasped moans from both men simultaneously. He repeated the action, again, and again, picking up speed, using his thighs to launch himself up and land back down over, and over, and _over_ until the friction turned into an addiction he couldn’t kick.

 _“Rhys…ungh, ah,_ that’s it, baby. Ride me, sugar, c’mon.” Jack used his powerful hips to thrust upward just as Rhys threw himself back down, his tight grip on the small waist helped the speed of Rhys’ thrusts.

Long body arched, exposing every expansion of lean muscle and groove of his long thin torso, Rhys whipped his head back to cry out the heavens, metal and flesh hand gripping onto Jack’s sweaty shoulders like a lifeline. His hips rocked, his back arched, thighs spread, and cock bounced against his belly with every hard thrust he brought down taking every inch of Jack with reckless abandonment.

“ _Ahn…ah! Ahh! J-Jack…_ Jack! _Mmnh…_ please… _please_ …”

“Such a good boy, Rhysie…my special boy…” Jack panted, waves of brown and silver hair clung to his sweaty forehead, brows scrunched and eyes narrowed as Rhys rode him. One hand let go of the young man’s hip to wrap around his flushed dick, taking all of him in his large hand and pumping him with no shred of gentility, causing a symphony of cries and wails from Rhys’ beautiful mouth.

The young man couldn’t take much more…he was _so close_ , there was no amount of strength he had left to keep going, and the hot coil in his lower belly was only getting hotter, _tighter_ , he was going to explode…he’d wanted this so badly, had missed this since that cold early morning in the desert. He’d wanted Jack this close to him again. He would drown in every sensation; those rough hands, powerful thighs, strong chest, watching his handsome face during his climax, and the overwhelming warmth of his hot seed filling him up…

“ _Fuck_ , baby boy, I’m getting there…come with me, kitten. _That’s_ it…I want you to come with me.”

“Yes…yes, Jack! Ah… _ah…_ ” Between Jack’s coaxing and him being fucked to an inch of his life, he was losing control of himself. A few more thrusts…a few more…

“ _Jack…J-Jack,_ I…I _love you_! _I…I love you,_ Jack…!” So lost in the throes of his building orgasm he didn’t realize what he'd said until the echoes of his passionate cries bounced off the walls around them. He wondered, only briefly, if he could at least finish before Jack reacted to those words; at least give him a nice release before throwing him off, that’s all he’d ask for…

 _“Rhys…errnhg,_ I love you too, baby boy. _God,_ I love you _so much…”_

Rhys’ vision threw him into a world of stars and planets, a cluster of colors against a black background as he rode an _unbelievable_ orgasm, body convulsing, spilling his release onto himself and Jack with every convulsion. He heard Jack’s strained howl somewhere in the celestial colors of his universe, felt blunt fingernails rake down his chest. A hand combed through his scalp and thrusted his head forward, vision swirling back into the reality around him to see his older lover’s face come into sight before their lips met, a slow very lazy kiss while they rode off the remaining endorphins. Rhys leaned further down to touch his sweaty forehead against Jack’s, breaths mingling together.

Minutes passed that felt like hours before the ache in Rhys’ muscles made him fall limply to the side, rolling over and shivering when Jack’s softening cock slide out of him. Limbs entangled and chests heaving, both men laid next to each other quietly save for the steadying of exasperated breathing. Rhys closed his eyes, pleasantly enjoying the full body tingle of his afterglow. The back of his flesh hand laid limp against Jack’s belly, moving up and down with the rise and fall of the man’s breathing.

“I should…really apologize to you more often.”

Too tired to laugh, all Rhys could manage was a soft snort. “Really?”

“Yeah…really.”

“…”

“…”

“…Jack?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“Do you think anyone heard us?”

Now it was Jack’s turn to snort. He threw an arm over his eyes and inhaled one deep breath before replying, “Dunno. Don’t really care. I’ve already explained the _breads and butters_ of human mating to your scary friend. I’m sure they’ll understand.”

That comment earned him a playful swat on the arm, and both men let out a joined chuckle. They stayed quiet afterward, basking in the comfort of each other’s presence amongst other simple luxuries they’d been deprived of for the past week. It felt good to be in a secure room instead of laying in the dirt in the middle of the Pandoran wilderness, to be in a bed – albeit a stiff slapdashed excuse for one – rather than the cold wooden floorboards of a warped old hut, in the presence of creatures that even though they may not fully trust and understand seemed a hundred times for pleasant than the company of money hungry, bloodthirsty pirates.

For once in what seemed like an eternity, a goodnight sleep was guaranteed. Even if for just one night, it was a small victory that Rhys felt they much deserved.

Rhys had dozed so far off into the temptation of sleep he barely noticed Jack shift next to him, and soon felt strong heavy arms wrap around his torso to pull him to the middle of the bed, body spooned against Jack’s larger one, and with a slight adjustment of his own he snuggled up comfortably close next to the other man.

Sleep had almost claimed the young brunette, but before it did there was one last reassurance he needed.

“…Jack?”

“Mm?”

“…If I…if I say it again…would you say it back?”

A quiet pause. “…depends on what it is, sweetheart.”

“…I love you, Jack.”

He received no reply at first, and was much too tired to worry about disappointment for the time being. But too soon had he filed away his answer he suddenly felt a smile against the back of his neck.

“…love you too. Now go to sleep, dumdum.”

Rhys didn’t need to be told twice, and with a smile etched across his face he finally allowed himself to fall into a peaceful sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_….zzzsshhh….zzzzsshhhsshhzzzshshzzzzz….._

 

 

 

 

_zzzzhhz…_

 

****

 

 

 

**_Hello_ , RHY5-W1NZ.EXE _, you have 1 Received REMail in your inbox._**

 

**_Message Loading…Loading…Loading…_ **

 

**_Brought to you by the Hyperion Corporation._ **

 

_A blank screen. Slowly entering from the top of the screen were giant italicized, bold yellow letters._

**_∎_   ** **_∎_ **

**_HYPERION_ **

**_∎   ∎_ **

_Blue static erupted in front of the massive logo, beginning as soft blue pixels wafting through the air. The pixels began to fill out, taking the shape of a human form until the digital reconstruction was finally complete. Blue hair styled back in gelled waves, a masked face, a large grin._

_“Hello~ there, guys and gals. Everyone’s **favorite** handsome CEO here! Giving you a very **special** invitation to a celebratory gathering on Helios. What’s that you said? You wanna know why? For the grand re-opening, silly! Thaaat’s right! Hyperion’s getting a whole new look! **And** with that look a few new implementations to our company that will change this world for a better tomorrow!”_

_“When is this very grand occasion, you ask? Whyy~ in just two days of course! I know, it’s so soon! Exciting, isn’t it? I’m practically pissing myself with anticipation! I haven’t slept a wink!”_

_“To give you all a sneak peek at the new and improved Hyperion Corporation, I’ve created a lovely little commercial showing bits and pieces of our fun filled extravagant evening! Exotic food, various assortments of aged wine, explosions, mass executions, everything you could ask for. So sit back, and enjoy!” He placed in his hips, smiling wide into the screen._

_…_

_…_

_His eyes glanced up, but the grin never faded. “Roll the tape, honey.”_

_…_

_…_

_The smile then turned to a hideous snarl._

_“Did I clone you with half a freakin brain!? Roll the goddamn tape, you idiot!”_

_Somewhere off screen, a woman’s voice could be heard, her tone a flat-line monotone._

_“…Sorry, Jack.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rhys has made a new friend and gotten him some booty. Now the boys can finally have a much deserved rest :)
> 
> Or can they? 
> 
> Stay tuned! More shit hitting the fan to come!!! All comments are welcome! Let me know what you think and if you have a theory, I'd love to hear it!
> 
> Until next time!


	20. Reckless Abandon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Wipes off the dust and cobwebs* I am so very sorry for the delay in this chapter! I underestimated just how busy the past month has been for me! Weddings, Birthdays, Work, Life in general has been so busy lately, but I'm so glad I made time to update! Thank you all for waiting so patiently! I hope to not disappoint my wonderful readers, who have given this story life for 20 chapters with your wonderful and kind reviews and stopping by to kudos or bookmark!!! It all means to much to me and I greatly appreciate the support!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may notice this chapter is a tad different than all the others, but not to worry! As the story is nearing the ultimate climax, we'll need to check in on other aspects of what's going on, because it seems like Rhys and Jack aren't the only ones being screwed over by our favorite blue douchebag ;P 
> 
> Please excuse any characters that may seem OOC, as some of the characters in this chapter is literally the first time I've ever wrote them, so I hope I got it right! Oh, and please excuse any typos you may find! I was extremely tired while revising this story, so forgive me XD
> 
> WARNINGS: strong language, sexual innuendos, brief mentions of gore and/or violence.
> 
> Enjoy!

“I’M SICK AND FUCKING TIRED OF THIS _BULLSHIT_!!”

Enraged screams tore through the muggy air, the trembling shockwave from massive fists sailing into the solid metal of the table rippled through the structure of the building. The various assortment of multicolored bottles that filled each shelf rattled in disturbance, ceiling to foundation and everything in between quivered under the force, even the distant dubstep on repeat in the background jumped off track for a split second before resuming its bass drop.

Dust particles flew into the air to dance in the dim lights that swayed throughout the room from the swinging chandelier above. Nearby bystanders once having a quiet conversation among themselves had quickly relocated to a safer part of the building, turning their heads away from the commotion at the bar in either respect for privacy or in fear of the large man from stories of his infamous berserk-like rage.

Another voice, significantly more controlled and calm, seemed to somewhat quell the tension in the room with its rich proper accent. “I must say I have to agree with our robust companion; I mean _really,_ an _invitation_ to this atrocity? Strutting his power like some…male _Bonerfart_ in mating season? Hmph! The _audacity_ of it all!”

“Audacity?”

“Reckless arrogance, my dear Brick.” The man explained.

“Oh. Yeah! What Hammerlock said! Audacity and shit.” The aptly named Brick shouted, removing his fists off the table as he swung himself back dramatically to pace about the room angrily, a vicious snarl wrinkling his face, accentuating the many battle scars that adorned his skin. His fists clenched again, hinting at an attack on another inanimate object, skin taught, knuckles popping, veins bulging, practically pleading to destroy and decimate.

Four bar stools down from the furor another voice chimed in, one more somber and mellow. Both men turned their attention to the voice, watching as a half full liquor bottle twirled in slow circular motions in the grip of a gloved hand.

“Like a broken record…” a pause of thoughtful contemplation, “…he just never stops….”

Brick threw a fist into his palm with a resounding  _smack._ “Well I say we SMASH that stupid record! I’ve had ENOUGH! Every frickin time we put that son of a bitch in his grave, he comes back!” With every word, it seemed to only refuel Brick’s rage, his pacing turning into hard stomps that shook the dangling light fixtures above. His stomps changed course suddenly, and he marched his way over to stand next to the seated man twirling his bottle thoughtfully.

“I say we go _back_ out there and finish this! C’mon, Mordecai, whaddya say? I’ll go grab my Slabs and we’ll wreck shit until there’s nothin left!”

After a considerable swallow from the bottle he’d been nursing, Mordecai exhaled the burn from his throat and tilted his head up to peer at his friend, years of knowing the man evident in the way he remained unfazed by the hulking Berserker standing over him.

“You said that last time, amigo,” he shrugged and shook his head, “like I said; a broken record—”

“ _So_?! I’ll say it a _TRILLION_ times if I have to! I’m tellin you guys, just let me use my fists on him; I’ll beat that _fuckin_ mask off his face until there ain’t nothin LEFT OF HIM!”

“If I may impede on your tangent, Brick, I believe there is no, erh… _solid_ or _physical_ form to him anymore.” Hammerlock stepped forward, his metal prosthetic hand lifting to stroke the stubble on his dimpled chin. “It appears our greatest adversary has evolved into a more perilous threat. We must be more careful how we approach this menace.”

Brick whirled around to face the older man with all the intent to retort, but instead just stared quietly for a number of seconds, blinking dumbly. “…I understood only half’a that, but what I _did_ understand is that you two are actin like pansy-asses!” The unexpected retort caused both Mordecai and Hammerlock to exchange confused glances.

“Brick, man, chill out. _Paciencia_ , _mi amigo._ That’s all Hammerlock is tryin’a say.”

“Paciawhatnow?”

“Your gallantry and vigor boil the right justice in my veins, Sir, but you must deduce this situation more carefully!”

“ARRRUGH! Will you both stop talkin in other languages!” Brick gripped the base of his skull and roared at the ceiling above. He soon became frantic; wild eyes roaming around the room searching for something neither men could figure out. When his search locked onto yet another presence in the room, he stalked over to them until his chiseled stomach met the edge of the bar counter, and he planted his hands flat against the smooth metal surface to lean his weight forward and nearly over the counter.

“Moxx, _please_ , you gotta agree with me here!”

From behind the bar, standing silently –had been throughout the entire argument– the voluptuous woman in question remained as entranced as she was prior to the escalated argument, her painted eyes grounded on the distant scenery of her bar, glazed over with internal pondering. An aged and well-worn rag in one hand, a pilsner glass in the other, she continued cleaning the glass methodically.

When all the attention in the shared space turned to her, all three men at that moment could mutually share the same thought; _she had been cleaning that same glass for the past hour…_

Breathing stilled with anticipation for a shred of acknowledgment from the nurturing, promiscuous, powerful woman with an image wildly respected throughout the planet, a force of nature more beautiful and deadly than the strongest typhoons Pandora could produce.

But after a few suffocating moments of tense silence, Hammerlock reacted first with an exhale of air he’d been holding, and looked away with unspoken sympathy. Across the room, Mordecai did the same.

Brick, however, took a different approach to the woman’s silence. His body began to twitch, thick shoulders trembling as furiously as his chin. Lips tightened into a thin line, and finally, Brick threw himself off the counter with a mighty huff and proceeded to stomp toward the exit.

“Brick!” Setting down his bottle, Mordecai maneuvered himself off the bar stool as if to chase after his longtime friend, “where you goin, man?”

Just a few feet from the exit did the passionate beast of a man stop. With a swivel of his feet he turned himself around to face his friends with heavily narrowed eyes and a harsh snarl on his lips. Seeing him this way, so irrational and stubborn, one who didn’t know Brick could say it was normal behavior, but to Mordecai and Hammerlock, there were very few among their group who had been anything close to their normal selves over the past year.

Those short few years of peace had ended rather abruptly with the most recent news of lost loved ones, and shortly after the news of _his_ return. Granted there had been no all-out war or trouble brewing from Hyperion since, but having to constantly keep one’s guard up every hour of every day in waiting could easily wear at their strength and sanity. And _now_ , in the span of a single Pandoran night, Hyperion’s newly released message to the world created a chain reaction of mass hysteria and fear.

And just as his name implied, Brick was always a solid unshakable man, but the chillingly harsh tone of his voice at that moment brought a clarity to everyone within earshot that their grim situation had finally driven him over the edge.

“I’m not gonna sit here like the rest of ya and let _him_ turn Pandora into a _goddamn_ _slave_ _planet_! I’m not a smart guy, but when I hear that Jack _died_ only a _week_ ago, and now there’s some big ass grand re-opening bullshit with an army of soldiers and robots and poppin champagne bottles and blue assholes, I’M NOT GONNA LAY DOWN AND TAKE IT! Somethin ain’t right up there, and I’ll fight it until it kills me! So here’s somethin ya’ll can do fo’me; burry me next to the rest of our friends that have died in this fight! Next to Roland, and Scoo—”

At first it seemed as though nothing could stop Brick’s plangent speech, but the earsplitting sound of glass exploding against the far wall echoed through every available space in the bar and startled every inhabitant, causing Hammerlock to jump where he stood and Mordecai’s shoulders to jerk in surprise. The remaining words died immediately from Brick’s mouth, but left his jaw wide open and eyes round.

Like solid rain, large and small, the shards of what was once a pilsner glass littered the concrete floor.

No one dared move or make a sound. In that instant, the three men simultaneously felt as if they were staring at the image of an ancient legend; instead of styled brunette hair were hissing irate snakes, gorgeous blue eyes now soulless pools turning all into stone if dared to gaze into them.

The image was gone as soon as it appeared, bringing everyone back to the present when after a long haunting silence Moxxi’s plump red lips curved into a smile, planting her hands on her round hips with a lean to the right. Her eyes scanned the room once before locking onto Brick.

“… _Boys_ ,” her voice was firm yet smooth like the softest silk, “scaring my business away is one thing, beating up my bar is another. _But…_ ” her body began to lean forward against the counter, her hands lifting to plant softly on the metal to slide apart slowly as she dipped over the surface. She inclined her head to the side, and beyond the beauty of her age-defying powdered face she allowed a sort of derangement slip through well restrained with all the class for a woman of her stature.

Moxxi stopped just as her large breasts met the metal of the countertop and rested them comfortably. Though they were a pleasant distraction, the tone of her voice commanded the attention in the room.

“…if you think, for even a second, that I would tuck my tail between my legs and allow _Hyperion_ to turn me into a slave? Brick, _sweetheart_ , do you honestly take me for a girl who’d _lie on her back_ and _take it_ so submissively?”

Brick and Hammerlock both instantly shot their eyes to Mordecai, who in turn glanced back at each of them with a confused expression. “What?”

Clearing his throat and bringing his eyes to the floor in a show of guilt, it seemed the rage had depleted completely from Brick’s system. He rolled his shoulders and, unable to look at Moxxi, replied quietly, “No…I-I’m sorry, Moxx. I didn’t mean to bring up—”

“It’s fine, sugar. Really.” There it was; the soft gentle voice they’d missed. It felt like ages since they’d heard her sound like that.

“What agitates me is how long it’s taken you boys to come up with a good enough plan. I mean,” her small laugh was yet another sound they hadn’t heard in months, and it brought the room into a nostalgia of when the bar was always a place of warmth and rich laughter, “I’ve already contacted my best engineers and finest fighters to prep for whatever Hyperion’s got in store for us.”

“Brilliant as always, Mad Madam Moxxi!” Hammerlock thundered joyously, and threw his metal hand out and up to his forehead in a solute. “The fearless femme fatale never ceases to amaze!”

“Should I be offended that I obviously wasn’t a part of that _‘finest fighters’_ comment?” Mordecai inquired dejectedly into his bottle of liquor.

“Prep?” Brick shouted, this time with excitement rather than anger. “You already got a plan? Well, what is it? Tell us, girl!”

“You’ll see~,” Moxxi replied, almost playfully, “you’ll have the best seats in the house, actually.”

Exchanged glances and quirked brows were traded before Moxxi rolled her eyes and explained. “You three will help Lilith, Maya, and I protect Sanctuary. There’s no doubt one of the first attacks, and likely the biggest, is on its way to us any day now. I’m working on strengthening our shields, so Ellie should be arriving any day to help out. We’ll need the shields working at maximum strength to avoid getting hit by any falling debris or shrapnel.”

The last comment turned every head in the bar. The remaining occupants in the building that moved to the farthest corners to escape Bricks rage were now stepping around tables and chairs to curiously listen to what their lovely bartender was saying.

“Uh…Moxx?” Mordecai stammered cautiously, “What do you mean by _falling debris and shrapnel_?”

There was no doubt that behind the curvaceous, painted, erotic lady of Sanctuary that was Mad Moxxi, there was also a side to her beyond the mask…a very deadly, sinister shade to the woman only seen by very few and warned by many to _never_ bring about. Her ex-husbands and past lovers, the ones left alive in the aftermath of her wrath, would shiver at the memory and swear never to talk about it.

So when every person within the bar began to lean back with wide-eyed expressions directed at Moxxi, there was no questioning _why_ they suddenly felt the cold chill of hate in their bones and the fiery sensation of an unholy heat singe their nerves when the woman’s sweet voice dripped malignant poison.

“Because when the shuttle I’ve sent off carrying my _oh-so special_ Vault Hunters land on Helios, the only thing left of that _bastard_ and his _precious_ space station will be the fiery remains that fall from the _fucking_ sky.”

Out of the crowd of people hovering around the bar, Brick, Mordecai, and Hammerlock all shared a hardened, very knowing look between one another that spoke with no words needed; the same thing that was on each of their minds.

Hell hath no fury like a grieving, vengeful mother.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Eh.. _Ah_ … _Eeaaachoo_! Ugh… _damn_.”

“Gesundheit. That was a big one. Do you have allergies?”

With a sharp inhale through his nostrils, Jack rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. “Nah. Probably all the dust in this place. That, or someone’s throwing some _mad_ shade on my name.” He recovered immediately, and proceeded where he left off before the ominous sneeze.

Rhys watched Jack with mild interest, adding to the man’s comment as an afterthought. “If that was the case, you’d be caught in an endless sneezing fit.” He couldn’t hide his smirk when Jack dropped his head comically before looking over his shoulder with a nasty look.

“Harharhar, Rhysie, you’re _soo_ hilarious.” Jack turned back to the task in front of him with a quick shake of his head.

“Seriously, you’re a natural born gut buster, babe.” With one hand on the knob, the ex-CEO threw his shoulder into the middle of the old steel door in front of them, his grunt harmonizing with the groan of the rusted hinges as the door opened with one last forced jerk. “Like, I don’t think you understand,” he continued while taking a step into the next room for a quick inspection, “you should sign up for the Hub Comedy Hour. You’d knock’em dead.”

Rhys rolled his eyes, smirk quickly fading. “I get it, Jack.”

“Be careful though, you might literally kill your audience. That kind of humor you got can be _lethal_ , it’s so funny.”

“ _Alright_ , you can stop now.”

To sum up the last few hours for both men; shit had now hit the fan on an entirely new level, and the place they were in was a literal _maze._ Long winding hallways that never seemed to end, connecting to other hallways only to discover a room that offered a multitude of dark pathways dimly lit by small torches perched on the stone and rusted metal walls. They’d bumped into a few stairways during their venture, but it inevitably brought them to just another higher level of the same endless assortment of hallways. Some of the hallways held old doors that lead to various rooms. Jack would try each door, declaring to Rhys that _any_ one of them could lead somewhere they needed to be.

To Rhys’ silent musings and Jack’s apparent aggravation, most of the doors lead into small rooms with nothing important, some empty, some containing old dust covered supplies –blankets, empty canisters, dismantled computers and operating systems broken and obsolete years before even Rhys was born, and much more—  some doors opened inwardly, others outwardly, and some doors led to nothing but a wall.

“What… _why_!? Why the wall behind the door?! This is stupid!” Jack growled and threw the door closed with brute force, uncaring of the echoing rumbles of noise he was making that traveled down the hallways. Grumbling profanity and angry nothings under his breath he continued to the next door. “Swear ta’God, if this one has another wall behind it I’ll pull my _freakin_ hair out...”

While Jack tried _every single_ door with the same determination as the last one, Rhys decided he’d wait it out and had chosen a spot against the wall between two doors to lean against, eventually sliding down until he sat comfortably on the ground, crisscrossing his long legs in front of him and resting one elbow on his knee to support his chin on his palm.

As the younger man watched his companion caveman his way into every room, his thoughts drifted back to the very reason that led up to this moment…

_“What better way to enjoy a fun-filled evening of joy and celebratory live executions than with a nice aged bottle of Chianti! All that gore can sure make a person thirsty, so make sure to wet your whistle before the main event!”_

The _invitation_ ; a psychotic, over the top, showboating message that haunted Rhys’ dreams until he’d awoken drenched in cold sweat and screaming, horrible visions of torture, mass murder, and formally dressed executives toasting to their new CEO’s plans for Hyperion ended in a scrambled wake up by a frantic Jack holding him down and whispering soothing words in his ear to coax him out of his hysteria.

There was no hiding it at this point, even if Rhys wanted to hide it from Jack. But they were done with keeping secrets from each other by that point anyway, so after Rhys had calmed down enough to explain himself, he had brought the REMail up on his holographic screen of his hand to show the older man.

Rhys glanced down at his cybernetic arm lying limply on his other knee, staring at his palm as the memories of only hours prior continued to flash across his eyes. At the time, he wasn’t sure how Jack would react to the message, but the one he was given was not what he prepared for. Anger, tangents, profanity, that was to be expected. But Jack listened, and watched…with dead silence and a blank face. His reaction was, to put it frankly, so controlled and reserved it unnerved the younger man greatly.

There was _one_ disturbing moment during the entire ordeal. After the message finished, Jack had requested a specific part replayed, _twice,_ that still bothered Rhys more than the man’s initial reaction…

_“’His eyes glanced up, but the grin never faded. “Roll the tape, honey.”_

_…_

_…_

_The smile then turned to a hideous snarl._

_“Did I clone you with half a freakin brain!? Roll the goddamn tape, you idiot!”_

_Somewhere off screen, a woman’s voice could be heard, her tone a flat-line monotone._

_“…Sorry, Jack.”’_

From there, Jack’s entire demeanor had changed. He had stood up so fast it startled Rhys, and _commanded_ the younger man to get dressed, dressing himself quickly, and without hesitation they left the room. Rhys had tried to pull an explanation, _something_ , from the older man as to what was wrong with him, but received answers so cliché he may as well have quoted from some cheesy low-budget action/sci-fi move.

_“Because the longer we sit here the more powerful he gets.”_

He might as well have asked where babies came from, and received the _from magical flying space whales_ or some random half-ass excuse a parent would give their small child to stop their incessant questioning, and Rhys found himself growing frustrated by the apparent fact that he had been given excuses instead of the truth. He had been honest with Jack about the REMail…apparently, Jack would not return the favor.

So now, Rhys decided to investigate on his own while Jack stubbornly tried to guide them through this mysterious place as if he knew where he was going, _which he didn’t_ , and replayed the specific part to himself quietly and keeping the hologram hidden from Jack’s view. Over and over he would rewind the message and replay, but still could not figure out why this particular scene caused such a transition in the older man’s mood and behavior.

The only lead he had was in the mysterious feminine voice, face not shown in the video and never mentioned or heard from in the rest of the message. Who was she? The better question was; who was she to Jack? To cause Handsome Jack to basically shut down and act with a type of desperation that, the more Rhys dwelled on it, started to resemble a familiar reaction of his own…?

It suddenly felt like a light had been turned on in the darkness of the mystery, however unfortunately revealing not the answer, but another question; what would cause Jack to react the same way Rhys had when Caecus misused the term _laid to rest_ when referring to Jack, driving Rhys to frantically and desperately race for the truth despite how terrifying the outcome could have been? As if Jack needed to get to Helios as soon as possible to discover something that could potentially reveal his worst nightmare? To spur such anxiety and _fear_ from a man like Jack…?

_Who is this woman…?_

“Another _Godforsaken_ wall behind a _son of a bitching_ door! That’s _it_!”

The distant scream down the hall was all Rhys needed to snap out of his thoughts, and in seconds he was up and jogging toward the older man. He arrived just in time to see Jack sail the flat of his foot into the solid wall in the heat of his tantrum, which backfired horribly when Jack stumbled back with a grunt of pain, arm coming up to wrap around his chest.

An overwhelming urge to blurt out _‘what a brilliant display of the term Reckless Abandon, Jack’_ was subdued for now. Best not prod an already pissed off bull with a hot iron. But what happened next would cause Rhys to be thankful he didn’t say it, for he would have instantly put his foot right into his mouth.

The _‘dead end’_ wall behind the door began to sway unbalanced, and before either man could make sense of what they were seeing the wall suddenly fell backwards, the impact sounding more like a sharp explosion ringing in Rhys’ ears. Once the wall had fallen and the dust had started to settle, what unveiled beyond the metal door was a dark passageway into seemingly nothing.

Rhys immediately snapped out of his shock to turn on Jack, already knowing the man would have the largest most insanely proud grin in the history of grins.

“ _No_ , Jack.”

“Oohoho, yes we are.”

“Dark, ominous, _obviously_ sealed off for reasons thought justified and necessary by _ancient aliens_. Hmm…no.”

“Pfft, c’moon. Where’s your sense of adventure, pumpkin?” Was this man serious right now?

Rhys scoffed back with the utmost incredulity. “Oh, I don’t know, probably left somewhere in between falling out of a blown-up shuttle or meeting the scariest creature I have ever seen and becoming its most honored guest in its home,” he flapped his hands at his sides theatrically, “ _which_ , might I add, we are snooping around in places we should _not_ be! Y-You could get lost forever in there! Or worse, what if there’s something lurking in there that humans aren’t supposed to see? We don’t even know what this place is—!”

The young man’s rant was cut short by one long index finger rudely smashed against his lips, and Rhys briefly considered breaking the damn finger.

“Let me stop you right there, kitten.” Between the finger or the know-it-all attitude, Rhys wasn’t sure what was more aggravating. “First; I don’t remember being _invited_ here or accepting any invitations, do you? Don’t answer that, I already know the answer's _no_. So technically we are _not_ guests, probably closer to hostages. Second, pretty sure we’ve already _met_ the weirdest thing lurking in here. And third; I know _exactly_ where we are.”

“Do’sh anshers shuck..whay,” Rhys quickly slapped the finger away from his lips to pronounce his words, “wait…you know what this place is?”

“ _Yup_.” Jack answered smugly with a quick nod, striking a very unnecessary pose with his hands on his hips. “What? You didn’t know? Huh, could’a sworn you did. Anyway, this is an old abandoned Atlas military base. _Very_ old. One of the first, if I’m not mistaken. Kind of surprised it still exists.”

Now would have been the time for Rhys to smack his forehead and ask himself why it never dawned on him until now. But that would not be the case here, because in all the years he’d spent learning about the many other competitive corporations, visiting real life Atlas ruins on his last visit to Pandora, none of those other structures came remotely close in familiarity to the one they were currently lost in. So how…?

Rhys scrunched his brows and nose in confusion. “How do you know this?”

The titled head and half-lidded look he was given in reply blatantly said _really? You’re going to ask **me** that? _ “Babe, when you’ve raided enough rival companies as I have, you tend to remember these tiny details. Each company has a unique architectural design to their structures. _This_ one is most definitely Atlas.”

That…actually made a lot of sense.

The next intrusive assault to his person was when Jack pinched the young man’s cheek between his thumb and forefinger, tugging back and forth. Jack leaned in close, grin returning full force as he scrutinized Rhys’ face.

“So _freakin_ cute when you’re being all dumb, kitten. When your nose does that little scrunchy thing? Drives me nuts. C’mon kiddo, we’ve spent _waaay_ too long in here.” With a quick kiss on the nose, Jack left Rhys where he was standing, jogging excitedly into the darkness of the unknown through the hidden passageway and out of sight before the younger man had a chance to collect himself.

“Jack? Jack…hey! Wait! Don’t just run in there like that! You don’t even have any guns to blaze! YOU’RE JUST ASKING FOR TROUBLE NOW! Ugh!” Rhys sighed, shaking his head when he knew screaming into the hidden path would do nothing to bring the man back. He stared into the darkness, trying in vain to ignore the building anxiety in his gut urging him away…

_“Did you know that a ‘gut instinct’ is actually your brain signaling red flags?” Vaughn stated smartly between sips of his latte. “It’s like a subconscious way of telling you ‘hey! you need to listen to me cuz I’m right!’ I heard that the other day. Pretty neat, huh?”_

The memory was brief and flashed quickly over his mind, and as Rhys took one daring step into the unknown after Jack, he desperately hoped the memory of Vaughn's random little fun-fact was nothing more than fond remembrance than foreshadowing impending danger.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The journey through the narrow hallway was, to be expected, one of the creepiest moments of Rhys’ life.

Paranoia was the first feeling to set in, a painful tightness in his chest that made breathing somewhat problematic, every hair on the young man’s body stood on high alert like tiny danger-spotting antenna’s that he quickly deemed completely useless. The path was dark, and he could see nothing, could only feel the walls on either side of him with the palms of his hands. Yes, he could use the convenient flashlight in the place of his disabled night vision that had yet to work properly, but quickly remembered the _last time_ he had shined his flashlight into the creepy pitch black darkness around him…

…and met the unspeakably horrifying face of Caecus for the first time, which coming to know the creature as questionably peaceful, regardless was a face he would _never_ be able to remove from his nightmares no matter how pleasant Caecus was.

So the flashlight was decidedly a no-go. Or…was it? Was the crippling vulnerability of being without sight better than the heart attack inducing anticipation of seeing something scarier than Caecus jump out at him from the darkness, or worse?

Damn the insufferable Hell that was Rhys’ paranoia.

_Pull yourself together, Rhys. Look at what you’ve been through. You’re a badass. You got this. Beast Mode, that’s right. Caecus likes you, and this is its home. It won’t let anything harm you, it said so…unless it doesn’t know you’re traveling down it’s secret pathways. Oh God, what if Caecus finds out and gets pissed?! What if it mutilates us for snooping?! What if—_

“RRRHHYYYYYYYYS!”

“OOH MYyyyeeerrrgh, f-fuck!” Of all times for Jack to suddenly shout Rhys’ name from down the dark path, the poor young brunette reached up to clench his chest, feeling as though his erratically beating heart would explode right out of his chest. For a moment, he stood still and heaved deep breaths of stale air to calm himself before proceeding forward.

_At this rate, I’m gonna gray at thirty. No doubt about it._

He followed Jack’s urgent shouts until the older man’s voice grew louder, and conveniently the closer he got there appeared to be some sort of light wherever Jack was as strands of light began to appear on the walls and bleed into the darkness around Rhys. Glorious, beautiful light.

Finally, he had reached the end of the narrow pathway, but did not think to prepare his real eye for the extreme transition from pitch-black darkness to the bright lights of lit torches, and before he knew it the first sight of direct light hit his eye with a burning sting. He hissed and recoiled slightly, closing his eyes instinctively, feeling the immediate flood of tears gather at the corners of his organic eye to spill down his cheek.

“Rhys…” he could hear Jack as clear as day, but the burning had yet to subside.

“J-Jack, I’m here, just…gimme a second…”

“…Rhys…this… _this is…._ ”

The young man began to rub furiously at his eye, the burning now settling into a sensitive tingle. He blinked open his cyber eye first, the auto-settings taking over to readjust the microscopic lenses while his real eye had to naturally adjust on its own.

“…kid…k-kiddo…Rhys…look, Rhysie… _look_ …!”

“Argh, I said to hold on, Jack, what the hell is so…so… _oh.”_

When Rhys finally _looked_ , it began at the giant tunnel directly above them, if he had to guess he’d say the massive tunnel stretched up a mile long, and possibly a mile wide, the very top closing in a cone-like angle until meeting at the very top at a point. It wasn’t until he trailed his eyes down that what he saw ripped an exasperated gasp right out of his mouth.

It wasn’t large, it wasn’t extravagant, and it didn’t look to be in the best condition, but right now it may as well have been the most luxurious space cruiser in the entire galaxy and Rhys would admire it all the same; it was the most beautiful, mesmerizing thing he’d seen in the week he and Jack had been stranded in the wasteland of Pandora, the longing to see such an amazing vessel brought him more joy than any food or water ever could.

“Oh…my…just… _wow,_ ” Rhys gawked, stumbling forward on numb feet.

“Heh…yeah…I know,” Jack stood only a few feet away, head tilted to admire the sight before them with an almost exact expression with the addition of a dreamy smile. “It’s like…I need to pinch myself or something… _God_ , it would suck so bad if I woke up right now.”

A spaceship. A small, rinky-dink, antique by today’s standards, glorious, beautiful, most breathtaking little piece of shit that both men had ever seen, because it was going to get them home, because screw getting help from Helios, and to hell with any assistance from some hacked Travel Station. _This_ , was the real deal, and no matter how stressed for time they were, taking a few additional minutes to soak it all in felt too _amazing_ to pass up.

“Jack…it _does_ look kind of old…you think it’ll work?”

“I’ll _make_ it work.” There was no falter or a shred of doubt in Jack’s voice at that statement. He practically bled determination then, radiated it, and it made Rhys want to fall in love with the man all over again.

A happy ending… like the ones in the movies and shows that happens to lucky people after going through a slew of trials and tribulations to get to it…is this what it felt like? The fluttering in his stomach, the stars in his eyes? Well, if it was he could definitely see the appeal of it now; no wonder people were so obsessed with feel-good movies…

…but the sudden surge of nausea in his belly brought about a very grim reminder to the young man, almost as if to crawl into his ear and hiss _there’s no such thing as happy endings in this world, Rhys…_

A shiver engulfed Rhys’ body, his skin overcome with abrupt horripilation. At first he thought it nothing more than his mind playing tricks on his body, but instantly dismissed the notion when Jack suddenly spoke up.

“ _Ooh_ , got kinda chilly in here just now. One hell of a draft.”

_No…it’s not a draft…this chill in the air…_

Faster than Rhys could detect a direction or focus point, his ears were assaulted with the knee-buckling intensity of ringing…the humming bell….

“…the song…” barely a whisper, the words slipped out of Rhys' mouth before he could acknowledge he’d said anything.

“Rhys?” Jack must have picked up on the words, and instantly was reaching out for him, voice ridden with concern and increasing alarm. “ _Babe_ , you’re pale as hell. What’s going on?”

He wanted to reply, he really did, but no words dared form on Rhys’ tongue when the next thing he knew an icy cold pressure settled onto the middle of his spine, and he could clearly make out the pressure as a palm, following were the indentions of ridiculously _long_ fingers pressing flat against the expansion of his back, the chill seeping through his shirt to bite at his flesh. From his peripheral Rhys could see Jack arch slightly in surprise and let out a sharp intake of breath, most likely the reaction of the other spindly hand coming to rest against the older man's back in an identical fashion.

A blur of black and white fell into view between the two men now frozen where they stood, the tall looming presence above them bending down until Its head was level with theirs, however twisted at an irregular angle.

The ringing in Rhys’ head stopped, replaced by a sharp hiss in his right ear…a tone he _never_ fathomed to hear replacing the smooth monotone that Rhys had grown accustomed to from Caecus.

_“You should not be here.”_

Just like Rhys’ paranoia had predicted; they had most definitely pissed off this terrifying creature by trespassing into places they knew well were off limits to them, throwing logical reasoning out the proverbial window and ignoring every blaring red flag.

And now they would more than likely be slaughtered in the very place they were standing.

**_“You. Should. Not. Be. Here.”_ **

Rhys couldn’t help the tremor of fright rip through his body when Caecus’ repeated words now thundered in the hollow room. Slender fingers clenched deeper into his skin, any more pressure and it would have bordered on painful.

_We’re going to die…_

“… _Rhys_ …” came the low whisper from around the enraged creature belonging to Jack. Whisper or not, he could clearly make out the slight quiver of _fear_ in the older man’s voice through his clenched teeth. “… _the hell do we do now_ …?”

A _little too late to listen to me now_ , would have been a great retort to throw in the man’s face if this was the appropriate time for it, and it was probably the only thing his fear-frozen mind could think of, as ridiculous as that sounded. There _wasn’t_ anything that could be done. Logically speaking, there was no way two humans could escape the rage of a creature who decimated an entire warehouse full of bandits and Alpha Skags with seemingly no malice or anger, with all the ease of _swatting a bug,_ could engulf you in _darkness_ if that made _any_ sense, with one simple touch had the ability to incapacitate someone, and God knows what other inhuman capabilities it possessed. Mind running across every logical outcome…there was none that ended in them getting out of this alive.

But…perhaps searching for an outcome using _logical_ reasoning was not the answer here….?

If they were already screwed, why not rip a page from Jack's book of reckless behavior and illogical thinking? And with the chance of survival below one percent, what was there to lose?

 “… _we say fuck it_ …”

"..."

"..."

“ _...I'm down,_ _let's do it_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh, did Caecus just fly off the handle? I wonder why... O.o Stay tuned for more!
> 
> Thank you for reading my story! I really hope you enjoyed it! All comments are welcome, let me know what you think, or if you have any theories, I'm a weirdo for the theories!<3 I hope to have the next chapter out a lot sooner!
> 
> Until next time!<3


	21. Your Executioner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving to everyone partaking in stuffing their faces, giving thanks, and then trampling over other people for marked down material goods XD seriously though, I cannot wait to pound some home cooking and sleep for the next two days<3
> 
> And as always, your wonderful reviews, kudos, bookmarks, and continuous support for this story is always and forever greatly appreciated <3 You guys are amazing, literally no amount of thank you's can do it justice. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am going to be straight up honest with you right now; this is not a happy chapter. One of the darkest of the entire story. Basically part one of the Big Reveal! And I'm sorry to say, there was not much room for any humor. :(
> 
> WARNINGS: a lot of them! Strong Language, Gore, Violence, Vomiting (vaguely described, but still!), Typos, and some Scary Stuff too, or could be considered scary to some. Viewer Discretion is Advised! Some pretty messed up stuff in this one.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy it anyway!

Impulsive reactions to desperate situations came as an uncommon characteristic for Rhys, and though he knew he was far from perfect at evaluating the best life-or-death decision from a list of alternative options, the young man had never considered himself capable of throwing himself blindly in an unknown direction he knew nothing about the outcome.

When ones only _desperate situation_ came from whether to laugh or scoff at a corrupt executive’s lewd joke to see how far they could go on the proverbial chess board that was the Hyperion corporate ladder, Rhys usually made the best plays by utilizing his ability to read people; learn how they operate, key characteristics that would either appeal or repel, and to know when to laugh and when to keep his mouth shut.

He’d gotten pretty far with that tactic, so the need to act impulsively was never a necessity in his world. His first experience of Pandora all those months ago served as a grim reminder that his _survival instincts_ outside of the corporate world would be one of his greatest weaknesses.

So at the very moment Rhys felt his body surge forward in an all-out sprint with nothing in his head but blank space, there _was_ no chess board he could use to his advantage. He didn’t know what he was doing, he didn’t know where he was going, and perhaps reading the situation more clearly before proceeding with such a drastic decision could have diminished the need to test that said weakness.

And perhaps if Jack had not been mimicking his same sprinting movement beside him, or that the other-worldly being they were now running from did not carry such an icy air of hostility and indignation from their intrusion of its privacy, that possibility would have been a lot more appealing.

**_“You. Must. Not. Run. From. Me!”_ **

“Yeah? Watch _this_!” Jack challenged boldly over his shoulder, though as bold as he tried to be was still running away from the irate creature like one would run from a live grenade with a tell-tale quiver of fear in his voice. He then immediately clicked his tongue and turned to Rhys running beside him at equal speed.

“Startin’ta…” Jack mashed his words as his breathing came out in short exasperated huffs, “…think we’shoulda…never foun’that pathway.”

“Shut up and RUN, _Jack_!” Rhys screamed. The _last_ thing he wanted to hear right now was Jack’s regretful laments after the shit he’d just pulled to put them in this situation.

Their speedy retreat carried them farther than they had expected through the vast, empty, torch-lit room to soon realize they were headed straight for a decision they’d have to make faster than their aforementioned speedy escape. On the far side of the room were three passageways each leading to different very dark directions that they’d soon have to choose from, taking them somewhere, _anywhere but here,_ but just before Jack or Rhys could voice what to do the decision was ultimately decided by another new terrifying variable; a staggering figure coming into sight in front of their paths effectively blocking all three options and causing both men to simultaneously extinguish their momentum until they were stumbling over their own feet to an abrupt stop.

_It couldn’t be…_ The realization at what had just crossed their path was immediate, and Rhys’ eyes rounded in alarm, body racked with a panic-induced tremble. He chanced a few sideways glances at Jack, watching as the man bent over to rest his hands on his knees in an attempt to even out his breathing, but noted that the older man’s expression was very similar to his own.

“You…” Jack managed between gulps of air, “…gotta be…fucking kidding me.”

An army of Eridians would have been beyond frightening, and although just one stood in the way of their escape route, the manner in which the small male Eridian was approaching Jack and Rhys spoke very clearly that they could go no farther. A staggering untimed schlep, the alien dragged his muscular legs slowly, unbalanced, swaying his little gray body with each seemingly struggled step forward. It briefly reminded Rhys of the times he’d seen intoxicated co-workers drag themselves out of the bars and nightclubs at closing hours on Helios.

The mental image of a drunken alien should have brought a small amount of comic relief to their situation, but Rhys could find nothing humorous in watching the alien act in such a way. Upon closer inspection, it seemed the Eridian hadn’t even noticed them yet; his downturned crowned head sagged and bobbed with his roguish movements, irregular arms swaying numbly at his sides, tail appearing more like a dragging lead weight behind him then the lively wagging appendage Rhys had grown accustomed to seeing on these creatures.

Closer and closer the little beast got to them the louder his guttural moans sounded within the vast room, echoing in the distance to bounce back off the far walls and into Rhys’ ears to remind the stunned man that he’d heard that distinct tone before…and come to think of it, he recognized the specific shape of the little Eridians crowned head, the distinct shape of his horns….

_Do I…do I know this one?_ Subconsciously, Rhys made cautious steps toward the oddity before him. Pulled in by the need to confirm his suspicions he wasn’t aware of his own actions until Jack’s stressed hiss brought him back to the present.

“ _Rhys,_ get back here _now_!” Jack pointed to his side in a hard motion, blue and green eyes blown wide and incredulous from watching his younger companion mindlessly drift closer to their new threat. Rhys could vaguely hear the grinding of clenched teeth behind him as Jack continued, “have you lost your goddamn mind?!”

“Jack…” Rhys gulped, jaw quivering as he chose his next words cautiously, “…I think…I think something’s very wrong—”

“No _shit_ something’s wrong! They’re flanking us.” Jack began breathing harshly then, jerking his head in every direction with a snarl, posture stiff and stance guarded. “Son of a bitch is siccing the Eridians on us. They didn’t want us to see the ship, Rhys! I knew it… It was all a _goddamn_ trap!”

“Jack,” Rhys let his attention venture back to what was definitely one of the rarest sights in human history; Jack was outright panicking, and that realization may very well have been more terrifying than everything else going on around them combined. “…y-you need to calm down, Jack, p-please…”

“I _need_ my fucking guns!”

“Guns? You think _guns_ are going to help us now?!” He didn’t mean to scream back, but watching Jack flip out was wearing at his own crumbling resolve.

“Better than _nothing_! I can’t…I don’t…I don’t know how to _fucking_ protect you with _nothing_ , Rhys!”

Those words melted any retort Rhys was prepared to throw out at the man, and instead let his mouth hang open in awe at what he’d just heard Jack say out of sheer _fright_ …but not just out of the impending doom closing in around them like the young man thought before…no, he was afraid for _Rhys’_ life. The hyperventilating, the manic, furious, _frightened_ emotions swirling in those heterochromia eyes, causing teeth to grind and broad shoulders to tremble, was because of Rhys’ life being in danger?

“Jack….”

He would never finish what he tried to say, for the bellowing roar of unleashed agony and mindless insanity ripped clear through the room with all the intensity of a shockwave after an atomic bomb drop, rendering all in its wake utterly immobilized with implacable terror. Both men, despite the overwhelming shock of it all, turned their heads back to the direction of the thundering roars, a morbid awe becoming them at how such a small creature could make such a boisterous sound.

Dread quickly replaced awe when they gazed upon the Eridians posture; closer than before, the weight of whatever unforeseen agony riddled the poor creature forced him back onto his haunches, hunched forward until his horns hovered inches from the ground, clawed hands gripping the sides of his skull and moved with the sporadic shaking of his head, as if trying to rid himself of an invisible attacker. Purple trails of liquid flung in every direction as his head continued to flail around, the majority seeping from his veiled face to pool on the floor below, the purple fluid glistening in the light from the torches around them.

Rhys had never seen something, or someone, in so much misery and anguish as he did now, and he wanted to look away; turn a selfish blind eye when he felt the growing knot in his throat was too much to bare. But he couldn’t stop staring at the creature…too entranced by the horror he was witnessing.

The Eridian moved again, too fast for the human eye to register immediately, and in a single blink Rhys found himself watching a different scene altogether; the small tortured alien had lifted his head to stare directly at him, claws still clenched tightly around his skull, body once trembling now motionless.

The very first time Rhys had seen Caecus, its porcelain face and gigantic black eyes illuminated by the blue light of his palm, he was sure it would be _the most_ terrifying sight in his life, and he was also very sure there would be nothing after that could compete against it, at least he hoped not.

But _this very moment_ had singlehandedly disproved that belief.

Eridians had purple eyes; round, brilliant, gorgeous magenta, that fit so well with their domicile, shy nature. The eyes that currently bore into Rhys’ soul were a deep blood red, slit pupils dilated black. Streaks of purple liquid trailed down the Eridians face from his eye sockets, and poured out from the corners of his open mouth. Veins bulged from hard ashen-gray skin.

The most terrifying of all was that beyond the magenta blood, the red demonic eyes, and straining veins, Rhys recognized the humanoid face of the Eridian male instantly, and with heavy contrition his eyes narrowed mournfully as he forced his Echo eye to life for _one_ more scan…

**_Height:_ ** _4ft, 7in ; 55in ; 139.7cm_

**_Weight:_ ** _Est. 46.3kg ; 102Ib_

It was him…the little Eridian alien, _the first one_ he met when he opened the door. He remembered their similar reactions to each other; both falling back on their asses in surprise, how he had bounded happily to Caecus to cuddle lovingly against his guardian’s cloaked body. That harmless little alien…was this hideous creature in front of him.

“ _No_ …”

“ _Holy fuck_ …Rhys… _Rhys_ , get away from him…” Jack’s words were almost lost in the air between him and Rhys, but the eerie hushed tone in the older man’s words were enough for him to somewhat snap out of his trance.

“…He…he’s sick, Jack.” Something compelled Rhys to take a few more steps toward the Eridian, much to Jack’s vocalized horror.

“Rhys, _stop_ …! That thing is _staring_ at you like…”

_Does it recognize me?_

“…you’re its _food_.” Jack’s comment rid the illusion captivating Rhys, and the red eyes that pleaded for help and remembrance only seconds ago now held a primal desire to feast, a starvation-driven madness that was soon followed by the alien’s jaw opening wide, layers of jagged teeth stained with its own blood gleaming in the distant light, and he let out another nerve-rattling roar. When he had crouched his body into a striking pose neither man could say, but there would be no time to further ponder when the small alien launched his body forward into a four-legged sprint, bounding toward Rhys with his jaw wide enough to unhinge.

He was suddenly in the skag pirate’s warehouse…the dank rusted metal smell assaulting his nose, dim dusty light fixtures, a giant hungry beast approaching him with steadfast determination to feast…watching…limbs numb and body too paralyzed to move. Just like then, the calling of death fell upon the scene before them, those agonizingly slow final minutes before a life was ripped away from the world without control or intervention...a helpless feeling Rhys had grown to fear worse than the inevitable outcome.

_Not again… it won’t be like last time._

_“MOVE, RHY—_!”

Rhys’ metal arm shot out, palm wide and fingers stretched. He didn’t have to look to know the frantic movement beside him was stopped by his actions. _I won’t let it happen again._

_“RUN, JACK!”_ Rhys screamed, staring his fate directly in the face as he continued, “please, just go! Get to the ship _—_! _”_

A massive blur of black invaded Rhys’ vision between him and the crazed alien. He took a shaking step back in surprise, as if physically knocked backward from what he was now seeing. So caught up in the tumult around him, he had forgotten about the other presence in the room…that had now flung itself in the middle of the entire cluster, ripping a single name from Rhys’ dry throat.

“…Caecus…!”

Whether Caecus heard Rhys or not, it remained a powerful dividing force between him and the Eridian, standing tall and firm, as collected and seemingly calm as always, even though he could not see its face knew there was a type of controlled and collected way about the taller alien that restored a fraction of reassurance in himself; he would not die, him and Jack would be okay. Caecus was unbelievably strong, and by the way it raised its long arm up to hold a hand out to the mindless Eridian to stop his blind charging; perhaps his tall cloaked guardian could snap the poor little alien out of whatever spell he was under, bring everything back to normal, and they could talk this whole thing out and resolve the misunderstandings that took place prior to this hellish nightmare….

Those thoughts shriveled into nothing when Rhys heard the blunt impact of bodies colliding, the squelch of flesh ripping apart, a symphony of liquid splattering the ground. To Rhys’ utter horror, red eyes returned in his line of sight, the hostile creature reappearing through a haze of raining black liquid between Caecus’ long twisted body recoiling sideways at the force and a severed white arm sailing through the air in the opposite direction.

The Eridian landed in a crouch, using the momentum to launch himself into the air, mouth wide open and red eyes blazing with rage, tongue hanging out of its mouth to wag purple blood and saliva wildly, a screeching otherworldly shriek in its pursuit for Rhys, who was now only feet away, too paralyzed by what he’d just seen to try and move out of the way. From the young man’s peripheral, he saw the yellowish-brown blur of Jack from his right hurdling toward him, a scream that should have been piercing drowned out completely by the small beast’s hungry wails.

At approximately two feet away, just before impact, the Eridians body suddenly jerked back with brutal force. Another assault of nauseating squelching noises could be heard, this time close enough for Rhys to hear every single disgusting detail of tearing flesh, bones snapping and crunching, the gurgled choke of confusion from the alien suspended above him. Splatters of warm liquid splashed Rhys’ face, his neck, chest, landing on his clothes to seep wet warmth through the fabric.

And finally, stopping inches from the bridge of his nose, were the points of blunt white fingers straight and flat resembling that of a spear…heavily drenched in shredded entrails and purple blood, protruding from the Eridians chest.

A confused, wheezed whine traveled through the air around them in broken gurgles. The small alien body convulsed in small spasms, before his eyes unfocused past Rhys’ shoulder, and the young brunette watched in an unblinking stupor as the haze of death overcame the creature’s softening expression, body sagging lifelessly around the arm pierced through his chest.

A chain reaction of sensations hit Rhys without mercy, starting from the burning in his dry eyes, trailing down to singe his empty lungs painfully, stomach churning so hard he could feel it all the way up to his heart, the nausea mixing horribly with his rapid pulse drumming against his rib cage. His limbs were cold, knees locked to keep him upright.

The arm surged back and out of the alien’s chest so fast that there seemed to be a split second of hesitation before gravity pulled the lifeless body to the ground in a bloody crumpled heap, leaving Rhys’ bulging eyes to stare directly at Caecus, attention pulled to the large blobs of black liquid, _blood_ , pouring from an empty tattered sleeve of what was once its right arm.

“Rhys?!” He heard Jack right next to him, felt his large warm hands all over his body, trembling as they inspected his face, his neck, gripping his shoulders tightly and urging him back from the scene in front of him. “Rhys? _Christ_ , _you’re pale_. Talk to me, babe. Are you alright?”

Jack sounded miles away through the drumming of his beating heart filling his ears, an immense pressure in his head strong enough to blur his vision. Lackluster brown and cyber-blue eyes leaving the bleeding arm to look up at Caecus’ face.

_You’re arm…and your face…_

While the left side of the pale creature’s face remained unscathed, the left side destroyed the once perfect symmetry of Caecus’ ghostly appearance; two large jagged gashes tore through white flesh, the larger one ripping across one giant black eye, removing it completely, blood thick and black enough to veil the inside of the wound as it poured down the side of its face… like black paint trailing down a glowing white canvas, dripping from its jaw to the floor in hollow _plops_.

The giant black eye that was still intact stared back at him, the left side the only way to truly read Caecus’ expression, and something was _very_ wrong. After numerous occasions of being up close and observant to the shrouded figure’s stoic face, Rhys could see a sliver of an emotion he’d never seen there before…

Guilt, but for who or what was beyond his comprehension.

_“Rhys…”_ Caecus spoke softly, the right side of its mouth twitching as it struggled to form words, _“youzh…you do not appear in fairzh…fair health~.”_

“The hell did you just say?” Jack snarled, pulling Rhys closer to his body protectively and away from Caecus. “You expect him to be _fine_ after all _this_!?”

Caecus was quiet for a moment, unfazed at the profuse amount of blood pouring from its severed arm and gashed face, the left eye flickering to Jack, then to Rhys, and finally down to the lifeless carcass at their feet, holding the stare with thoughtful contemplation.

With head now lowered, the creature’s blood oozed out from its facial wounds in massive quantities. It was only until it lifted its head to peer back at both men that the reality around them became more warped than anyone would have ever expected. The thick black blood that veiled the insides of those gnarly gaping wounds had _drained_ , if that was the closest terminology one could appropriately call it, and Rhys almost wished he could see veins, and meat, bone, _something_ that would relate Caecus to a more… _natural_ being….

Past the jagged flesh and thin streams of blood, small blue sparks of light popped and sizzled, the reaction causing spasms from the creature’s face and neck causing its head to jolt to the right. What should have been meaty alien anatomy were clusters of small wires, black and white and _silver_ , metal plating, clusters of smaller wires just above the jaw; artificial muscles, their primary function used to pull and shift and rotate.

_“…there iszzh…much you doszzzscio non…not understand hezzhzre…”_

Whether subconscious or intentional, Rhys could feel Jack drag him back slowly with shaking hands and an iron grip on his shoulders. Unable to move, to think, to even _breath_ , he allowed his body to move back without a shred of restraint. The alien that had spoken to him all this time, had saved his and Jack’s life _twice_ , had showed acts of kindness to them; food, water, shelter…was now a being that Rhys wanted to desperately get away from as warning sirens sounded in his mind then, a chorus of _get away, leave this place, escape, escape, ESCAPE._

“I don’t really give a shit about understanding _this_ ,” Jack spoke in a slow, cautious pace, his voice deep and hoarse like Rhys had never heard him sound before, “and whatever _this_ is, we’re not a part of it. What _you_ are, what the fuck _that_ was,” he quickly glanced to the dead ancient at their feet in emphasis, “we want _nothing_ to do with any of it. So just let us leav—”

Rhys suddenly ripped himself out of Jack’s hold, surging forward on stumbling legs until he collapsed to his knees and palms, body convulsing once before expelling the contents in his stomach onto the floor. Cold sweat broke out over the young man’s pale skin just underneath the grime and alien blood, body simultaneously racked with violent tremors as he continued to dry-heave.

Jack was crouched at his side instantly. “Rhys…! Rhys, _baby_ , c’mon stay with me. Deep breaths, okay?” His voice was shaking as ferociously as his hands when they reached out for him. “In and out, remember? _Fuck_.” When Rhys continued to heave and convulse, Jack’s voice turned frantic. “ _FUCK._ Rhys, y-you’re throwing yourself into shock. Baby, I _need_ you to calm down.”

Rhys wanted to respond, he really did, just like he wanted to breath like Jack instructed, but that just didn’t seem possible when he couldn’t operate his lungs properly, being at the mercy of ragged untimed gasps between fits of dry-heaving. A black fog began to seep into the corners of his vision, and Jack’s look of anguish and panicked concern appeared blurred and distorted.

_“..zzhzhzhzhsshhdebeo…debeo…I mustn’t wait…any longer~”_

Jack reared his head up to snarl at the creature threateningly, and Rhys watched with unfocused vision as Caecus appeared in his line of sight, right above Jack’s crouched posture, _towering_ over him, black robes fluttering around its body from the speed in which it moved toward Jack.

_Run..._ Rhys wanted to scream, _…run away, Jack…_

A long pale and bloodstained hand shrouded Jack’s face, thin fingers enveloping his skull and palm rested flat against the older man’s forehead.

_Run...away, Jack…please…_

Rhys watched, helpless where he lay, as Jack reacted violently to Caecus’ incursion with a clenched fist sailing directly toward the ancient guardian, and before he could land a hit the older man’s arm fell limp at his sides, eyes once wide and enraged flickered out of consciousness to roll back into his head, his body falling to the ground in a heap next to Rhys.

“J…Ja _ck_ ,” a slurred choke bubbled up the young brunette’s throat with a wet cough, and his arms finally gave out on him to fall sideways into a fetal ball, his body shivering violently as a cold numbness crawled up his limbs. Eyelids flickered through the darkness seeping into his vision in vain to stay awake, but the exertion on his body had taken a toll to a point where he could no longer fight it.

And as the darkness overcame his sight, consciousness cutting in an out briefly, he could vaguely make out Caecus’ slender silhouette leaning over him, the small blue sparks of electricity the last clear image he could make out before he felt his body finally give in to the overwhelming fatigue.

_“…dddimitte…zzhdimiforgive me…Rhys~…you are meant for greater purposes in this world~.”_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There were exactly three hundred and forty-three thousand, eight hundred and six small indented patterns on the metal ceiling above, counted twice for reassurance. Thirty-seven bars keeping the inhabitants of the small cell from escaping – a number hideous enough to be intended by the _asshole_ builders who built this _asshole_ space station wanting to sneak in as many _asshole_ details hidden in plain sight – three impenetrable steel walls, four overhead speaker systems mounted to each corner of the cell, three florescent lightbulbs incased in a clear plastic covering built into the ceiling, two beds, two blankets, two pillows, four legs per bed, one toilet, zero toilet paper, two occupants, and fifty-two tiles on the floor and counting.

At this point, Vaughn was quickly running out of things to count around him. He _could_ start on the fibers of his clothes…if desperate enough, he always had that to fall back on. For his sanity’s sake, at least.

_Anything_ , to drown out the overbearing anxiety weighing on his mind…and _other_ things that could eventually throw his sanity right out the window...voluntarily.

“…seasons don’t fear the reaper…nor do the wind, the sun, or the _rain~_ …we can be like they are…come on, _baby~,_ don’t fear the reaper…baby take my _ha~and_ …”

_Ignore it,_ he thought to himself, _she’ll stop eventually. Focus on the tiles. I wonder if I can divide the number of indentions on the ceiling with the tiles…I wish they hadn’t taken my glasses away, could do some serious math with those things…_

“… _vaaaalentine_ is done… _heeere~_ but _nooow_ they’re gone…”

_Square root of the cell bars…God, she’s so tone-deaf…._

“Laaaa laa laaa…”

Vaughn launched himself off his small stiff bed with an agitated groan, swinging his legs around to the other side of the bed facing his tone-deaf cellmate currently destroying his concentration, and leaned forward until his elbows rested on his knees, bringing one hand to massage the bridge of his nose.

“You’ve been singing that song for _three hours._ Can you, I don’t know, _please_ pick something else, _anything else_ , to sing?”

Vaughn watched his cellmate’s quiet reaction with a frown, watching the way she remained lying on the bed with her upper half propped up against the far wall, one ankle thrown over the other. She slowly unfolded her hands from their lax position on her belly to raise one up and soundlessly lifted the hat from her face, giving Vaughn one arched elegant brow in question.

“It’s a good song,” she replied simply, “respect the classics.”

“What? I do. And it _is_ a good song… _was_ a good song, until I heard it for three hours horrendously off-key.” The room went quiet, and after an awkward stare-down between the two individuals Vaughn started to fidget uncomfortably, but not because of the normal reason – that she could be downright intimidating – but the blackish-blue bruise wrapped around her left eye, spreading out over her cheekbone. It reminded him of the very moment she got that shiner; having spit into a Hyperion military general’s eye shortly after she was thrown into the cell.

The memory rekindled a tingling pain in his chest; to strike a woman like that…he’d lost his temper then, impulsively throwing an uppercut into the general’s rock-hard jaw before he was even aware he did it…needless to say the steel-toed boot to his ribcage was definitely worth it.

“Fiona,” he sighed softly, “…I did say _please_.”

Another awkward moment of staring, but it didn’t last long when Fiona’s shoulders shook slightly with a soft snort under her breath, eyes closing and smile spreading across her lips, accentuating a certain swollen corner of her bottom lip around a scabbed-over cut – he wasn’t sure how she got _that one_ – and sighed back at her frazzled company.

“Okay, _fine,_ I’ll pick another song.” She feigned exasperation humoredly. “What, ran out of things to count so you’re bugging me?”

Now it was Vaughn’s turn to feign an emotion, and he placed a hand over his heart in mock insult, “bugging you? Hmph, not at all. I couldn’t concentrate with your…ah…screw it. I got tired of counting those stupid tiles.” He dropped his head into his palms to rub his face tiredly before running his fingers through his thick brown locks.

Fiona snorted, “pfft, knew it. Well, we can talk about something else.” A pause. “I got one; how is it that a guy can get a beard _that_ thick after not shaving for just four days?”

“Hm?” Vaughn lifted his head and tilted it slightly in confusion, “what do you mean?” His eyes immediately tried to look down at his beard, and he heard a soft chuckle from the young woman when his attempt ended in him severely cross-eyed. “This is normal for me.”

“Not normal for most men, though. Even _I_ know that.” Fiona countered. Vaughn snorted, yet said nothing in reply when he instead waited for Fiona to add on to her playful banter. But she never did, and a solemn silence fell over the small room, save for the soft buzzing of the fluorescent bulbs above them.

In these quiet moments, Vaughn would let the weight of his world press down onto his shoulders; weak to the inner musings that plagued his mind. When he wasn’t talking to Fiona, when he wasn’t counting random objects around him, his mind would wonder to the darkest regions to fester. With a deep breath he lifted his head to look at the woman seated in the bed opposite of his, observing her quietly.

Fearless, stubborn, emotion-bottler; a few words that Vaughn could blatantly associate with the woman. But he couldn’t fault her for it. In fact, he would easily admit he admired that about Fiona. Taking on the role of older sibling, provider, and parental figure the majority of her life, there was no question why she developed such characteristics.

But Vaughn was never a man to judge a person based on the mask they wore. He was analytical by nature, and that ability allowed him to perceive beyond the strongest built walls of a person’s façade.

And beyond Fiona’s wall at this very moment he could tell she was scared. No, not scared, _worried_. Vulnerable. Helpless. All very foreign to someone as brave and independent as her. He couldn’t blame her; sitting in a claustrophobic cell while the world burned around them, loved ones nowhere to be seen or heard from…yeah, definitely couldn’t pass judgement there.

“…she’ll be okay.” Vaughn couldn’t help the next words that slipped out of his mouth impulsively, causing Fiona to break her hard stare at particularly nothing in the room to meet his eyes. Vaughn cleared his throat, “…I mean…I’m sure that wherever she is, she’s okay. If we’re still alive, that should be a promising sign…right?”

Fiona stared back wordlessly, as if letting Vaughn’s words seep in.

The short accountant continued despite her silence, “I know you’re skeptic. Trust me, it’s hard _not_ to be right now,” he lifted one hand to smooth back his wavy brown locks, “I may know more than anyone how you’re feeling,” he paused, allowing a brief mental image of a certain ‘ _dead_ ’ best friend flash through his mind, “…but don’t lose faith, okay? She’s okay. And you’ll see her again, er, _alive_ , I mean.”

During his broken speech, Fiona had remained quiet and instead allowed the slight upturn of one corner of her lips speak for her. When she finally opened her mouth to reply, however, another voice beat her to it.

“What _beautiful_ words of wisdom and inspiration, _Poindexter_. But I wouldn’t speak so confident so soon if I were you.”

Appearing out of seemingly thin air did a blue pixelated body materialize next to Vaughn on the bed, posture slouched and leaning lazily against the wall with the illusion that the wall’s support was needed. Vaughn shouted in surprise and scrambled quickly off the bed until he was on the other side of the cell. He turned back to see the antagonistic grin of their captor and couldn’t help the sneer that warped his bearded face, which received a sharp laugh in reply.

“What’s with the glum faces? _Guys_ , seriously? I’m throwing an _awesome_ , unbelievably _badass_ party tomorrow night, and all I get are frowns and _boo_ - _hoo_ peptalks? Where’s the excitement?”

Neither Fiona or Vaughn answered, and instead let their seething glares speak for them.

The AI switched his blue eyes back and forth from each of their expressions before rolling them up to the ceiling and back down to accompany an irritated pout. He leaned off the wall to sit up straight, spreading his legs out forward resembling that of a frustrated child.

“Jeez, really killing my mood here. Kind of sorry I bothered to visit,” the AI shrugged, “that’ll teach me for wanting to check in on my guests of honor.”

“You mean _the_ _main event_?!” Vaughn snarled, having all he could take of the hologram’s shitty comments. “You _really_ expect us to be…ugh, _happy_ , after what you’ve done? After what’s going to happen to us?!”

A pause. “…um, yes?”

_Fucking unbelievable_. He felt his fists clench tightly at his sides, fingernails digging into his palms hard enough to cut through the skin. “You’re _sick_.”

The CEO AI stood up then, his holographic body’s height towering over Vaughn, and morphed his pout back to the trademark grin. “Aw, _someone’s_ a little butthurt. Wanna talk about it, champ? Wait, no, that sounds _so_ boring. Forget I said anything. I’m sure Phoebe here’ll get an earful after I leave—”

“It’s _Fiona—_!”

“—bratty little _shit_ who just cut me off? Sounds more appropriate.” Like a raging storm changing direction, the AI suddenly whirled on Fiona. Blue eyes sized the young woman from the top of her hat to the point of her boots with a disgusted wrinkle of his nose. “Y’know something? I like you. Always have, even if you are a _Vault Hunter._ _So don’t fuck that up._ Mkay, pumpkin?”

“Fuck you.” Fiona hissed back, matching his disgusted look with a similar one of her own, to Vaughn’s dismay it only appeared to fuel the AI’s growing wildfire of a mood.

“Feisty,” he chuckled, “ _that’s_ why I like you. Also why I haven’t slit your sister’s throat from ear-to-ear…” Fiona’s frightened gasp did not stop his vicious words, “…the simple fact that I enjoy controlling that fire you got inside you.” His pixelated body disappeared for only a fraction of a second before reappearing before the bed, standing over the stunned woman with his shoulders broad and hands perched on his hips to make himself appear much larger over her.

If holograms could twinkle, Vaughn was certain that AI Jack’s eyes were sparkling with sick joy at watching the young woman fidget under his gaze. “I can make you burn bright…or I can _suffocate_ you until your nothing but a dying ember. It’s a lot more fun than it sounds, I assure you. Because when your fire burns a _little-too_ bright, all I need to do is…oh, I don’t know…maybe cut off a hand? Is she a lefty, or a righty? _Ooooh,_ what about her tongue? Just _rip_ it right out of her mouth. _That_ would certainly make a good present. Put a little bow on it and everything! Haha, I like that idea! What do you think, _Fiona_?”

A rather obnoxious ripple of pain traveled across Vaughn’s shoulders to his chest, and he quickly realized his muscles had tensed to stop his trembling, breathing shallow and labored. Was it…? Yes, yes it was.

Implacable fury, and it burned through every vein in his body, scorching his face red and tightening his fists until his knuckles turned white. He had watched the entire interaction between them, how AI Jack had leaned closer and closer to her with every hateful word, how Fiona had finally broke her stare in submissive defeat to look down at her lap, eyes screwed shut and jaw trembling – even resorting to chewing the scab on her lip to the point where he could see a bubble of blood form as her teeth sunk into the tender flesh – there was only so much a person could take, and Vaughn decided he’d _fucking_ had enough.

“You know what I think?” The challenge was evident in his tone, and the young man squared his shoulders to back the strength in his voice, lifting his chin to stare the hologram dead in the eyes when his question had pulled the CEO AI’s attention away to lift a curious brow at the other captive.

“Oh? Are you—?”

“I think you’re the epitome of everything _wrong_ with the piece of shit that died disgracefully in that _fucking_ volcano. You’re a shell, _a copy_ , of the original arrogant _dumbass_ that ruled Hyperion like a spoiled, neurotic five-year-old. And compared to _him_? You’re nothing. You’re a joke; a joke who gets his rocks off by backstabbing your friends, and turning your _hardworking_ employees into mindless soldiers. You jingle the lives of people’s loved ones over their heads because no one _ever_ bothered to love you while you were alive. And I can’t see why anyone ever would.”

He could have kept going. Hell, he could have spent his entire imprisonment writing a novel with nothing but hateful word-vomit, but his tangent seemed to extinguish some of the rage boiling his blood. He held his ground despite the silence that befell the room after, stance unwavering regardless of the shocked stares from both human and hologram regarding him in their own unique way. Oh, Vaughn knew he was a dead man, but he knew that the very moment they captured him for going through Rhys’ office.

The AI dissolved into a trail of floating pixels, and before Vaughn had time to so much as blink the AI materialized directly in his face, the height difference between them large enough that the shorter man raised his head up to match the crazed eyes glaring hauntingly down at him.

“Wow…” was all AI Jack said at first with mock-exasperation, “…tell us how you _really_ feel, am I right?” Though the words were antagonizing, there was nothing remotely light or playful. It was malevolent, and Vaughn could feel the chill of those words on his skin.

But he would gladly die _right here_ , _right now_ , before he allowed himself to bow down.

“I’m not afraid of you.”

“…heh, I can see that.” He leaned closer to the shorter man and scrutinized him closely with a psychotically slow tilt of his head. “You’re a ballsier little prick than I give you credit for. And here I thought _Rhys_ was the one with the bigger balls. Huh.”

The mere mention of his best friend’s name reignited another spark of anger in Vaughn, resulting in another unrestrained tangent. He narrowed his eyes at AI Jack as he hissed, “just wait. Rhys and the _new_ Handsome Jack are out there, and when they get _here_ , you’ll wish you never tried to kill them. You’ll wish you’d _never_ pulled this shit on _any_ of us—”

“—let me stop you right there, four-foot-wonder, because I am getting _really_ bored with this little convo and I got a ton of party planning ahead of me, _sooo_ I’ll go ahead and wrap this up with some helpful tidbits for’ya to chew on for a while…” the AI leaned back at full height, and held one long blue index finger inches from Vaughn’s face.

“One; I don’t have any rocks to get off, kay? I’m an AI. A. I. I can’t _get off_ even if I wanted to. _Two_ ,” instead of adding the second finger to the first, he lowered the first and brought the middle finger up to flip the other man off, “you’re not scared of me? Hah, that’s just fine with me, princess. Cuz’ uh…between you and me,” he leaned toward Vaughn until his holographic lips hovered inches from the younger man’s ear as if to whisper, even though his voice was being broadcasted from the speakers in the cell instead of the hologram himself.

“…It’s not _me_ you should be scared of. It’s _her.”_ With impeccable timing, AI Jack had moved just enough for Vaughn to see straight ahead without a blue blur obstructing his vision, and realized with rounding eyes that there had been _someone_ else in the vicinity watching them the entire time. From beyond the bars of their cell, in the darkness of the hallways beyond where the fluorescent light could not reach, Vaughn could just barely make out a slender, feminine-like silhouette, standing inert and silent.

_How long…_ Vaughn’s mind was reeling with apprehension, _…how long as she been there?_

The baritone chuckle vibrated of the walls to lick at Vaughn’s nerves from every direction. “ _She’s_ the one that’s going to be mutilating your worthless ass from the inside out tomorrow night, in front of thousands, _hundreds_ of thousands, possibly _millions,_ of people on live television. And trust me…you don’t want to _know_ what she’s capable of doing to people...oh wait, you will!”

Suddenly the AI was at the edge of the room near the locked cell door with a trail of small pixels drifting through the air like rustled dust particles, showing off a proud stance and a smug grin as he eyed both Fiona and Vaughn one last time, the eerie silhouette of their newly announced _executioner_ standing right behind him. Just as both captives thought they would see the last of him for now, there should have been no surprise that AI Jack had to throw _one last_ gut-wrenching comment into the air to settle heavy in their stomachs.

“And number _three,”_ he puffed his chest, appearing _way_ too proud about this last one, “I wouldn’t concern yourselves with our favorite meat-sacks. I’m sure that… ‘ _wherever’_ they are, they’ll be a _little-too_ busy with their own problems to make the party. A shame, it’s gonna be a real hullaballoo, ya’know? Oh! Almost forgot!” He twisted his head over his shoulder to regard the shadowed figure in the hallway.

“Hey, dumbass,” he let out a sharp whistle, like one would command a disobedient _dog_ , “be a doll and set our coordinates for the Northwest Coast, peak of the Dust forty-miles east of Hero’s Pass, wouldya? There’s an old abandoned military base out there I’d like to _check in on_ before the party starts.”

He turned back to Fiona and Vaughn with a quick waggle of his eyebrows. “See ya later, _guests of honor_.” He cackled at his own secret joke, and just before he vanished he gave Fiona a quick wink and a “by the way, _love_ your taste in music.”

With the disappearance of their holographic antagonist followed a silence in the cell more overbearing than the previous ones, leaving the Hyperion accountant and the rookie Vault Hunter to sit in the quiet to stew on the information they’d just been taunted with.

After a few long seconds, Vaughn exhaled the air from his lungs he wasn’t even aware he was holding, allowing his body to relax somewhat despite the unwelcomed return of pinched nerves and tension-swollen muscles. He considered laying on the ground to stretch some of the more painful kinks out, but when Fiona all but suddenly drew her legs up to her chest quietly and tucked her head in the space between her chest and knees, he felt a wave of sympathy wash over him, a voice in his head persuading him toward the bed, and so instead of tending to his own sores and woes, he slowly stepped over to the bed and climbed onto it without jostling his now withdrawn cellmate, cozying up next to her with his back against the wall.

If Fiona was perturbed by Vaughn’s actions, she never voiced her opinion, and he wouldn’t ask. After some odd minutes of quietly sitting next to his friend while staring at the wall and twiddling his thumbs he then decided to raise his right arm, hesitating and debating for a few _more_ odd minutes, until finally blanketing his arm around her scrunched shoulders tenderly. She flinched at the contact, and Vaughn was almost tempted to rip his arm back before she tore it _off_ , that or gave him an equally ugly shiner of his own, but no sooner had the thought crossed his mind he felt her shoulders relax against his half-hug.

With his other hand, he brought it up to rub one finger against the bridge of his nose; a habit stemmed from consistently repositioning spectacles, when Fiona suddenly leaned against Vaughn’s shoulder, taking the young man by utter surprise.

They remained there for what seemed like hours, neither speaking, as words were not needed, simply content in basking in the quiet of the room in each other’s company and comfort, both mind’s overwhelmed with concern; one for her sister, and the other for his best friend, preferring not to think about their own grim plight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *crawls out of burrow* is it over? 
> 
> Like I said, I'm very sorry if anyone was not expecting this, and I'm very grateful to those who read it all the way to the end! And if things got more confusing, next chapter will fill in all the blanks! So get ready!
> 
> All reviews are welcome! Please feel free to leave a review and let me know what you think, or if you have any theories, I'd love to read them! Thank you for reading, you guys are awesome! Until next time!


	22. The Greater Purpose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Chinese New Year, Everyone!! I'm so sorry it took two months for me to update! O.O" Thank you all for being so patient with me <3 To all of you who recently commented and wished me well in hopes of an update, thank you for your support! And to those I have not yet had a chance to personally reply to your comments, I apologize and want to let you all know how amazing you are and appreciative I am of you devoted readers. :3 I hope I've made up for my absence with this 8400 word chapter!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERE IT IS! THE BIG REVEAL!! I've waited so long to get this part out, and I'm so excited for you guys to read it! I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> WARNING: this is also a pretty dark chapter, so just a heads up :/ it's gonna get pretty damn angsty...sad sad stuff in here guys, watch out. Also, strong language.

_RE: Request for Deadline Extension – SY290 CAP-10_

_John,_

 

_After careful review, your earlier request regarding time extension for the SY290 deadline has been denied. Please submit your completion checklist and all supporting criteria by the current scheduled deadline of 02/05._

_Please respond at your earliest convenience with confirmation you have received this message._

 

_Regards,_

“…Well, _shit_.”

An asperous sigh crackled through the stale air, a symphony of exhaustion and frustration dancing along the quiet darkness, a noise that would so normally incorporate itself into the orchestra of other sighs, grunts, curses of various other disgruntled middle-management workers were left to reverberate off the walls of the empty room and back to grate along the dull ache behind bloodshot eyes, biting at the pain that swelled behind graying temples.

Paranoia had been made a confirmed belief with one simple word: _denied._

Instead, all John could see was; _demotion, airlock, space, suffocation, death._

They were going to kill him, that much was apparent. The unrealistic time expectation for such a massive project was not from one simple overlook by an executive when it was assigned to him. No matter how many hours spent slaving away on this project, how many processors it took to complete each step, the answer was all the same.

_Failure. Defeat. Termination._

_Sabotage._

The term _fired_ was more than just a figurative term of ending a work-contract with Hyperion. _Fired,_ depending on your roll in the company and/or hidden in the fine print of a signed Non-Compete Contract, often meant being _fired_ into space. If you were an asset to the company or your connections paid off, your life was then _charitably donated_ to R &D in a generous [forced] decision to still offer your services for the future of Hyperion.

Or to put it simply; if you weren’t a useful employee, you’d make an _exceptional_ lab rat.

The mere thought of _death or lab experiment_ brought about an eruption of panicked breaths as anxiety coiled around the man’s lungs with all the unforgiving fortitude of a hungry serpent. Spectacles, held together by adhesive and clear-tape clattered on the surface of the desk from a jerky toss. Pointed elbows slammed simultaneously on the smooth exterior, allowing calloused palms to cradle the somber man’s heavy despair. _Keep going, John,_ he thought to himself, _you’ve made it this far. Don’t give up. You’re the hero of this story, remember?_ He exhaled, expelling some of the fatigue from his aching body.

_What would Jack do?_

At the mention of _that_ name, the voice of his thoughts dropped in pitch, words sharpened, tone morphing into a slow, rich, deep drawl. Bitten and bruised lips from hours of worry began to pull to one side in a smirk, whether the man knew he did it or not remained a mystery.

_Yeah…Jack wouldn’t be scared. Hah, you kiddin? He would stroll up into that COO office and gun down all of them until he got his extension approved…that’s right. And they would give it to him, too, Tassiters wrath or not._

_But not to John; cowardly, spineless little yes-man. Too whipped by his granny to fight back…or so I’ve heard them whisper._

A different kind of weight fell upon John’s chest then, seeping into his muscles, overcoming every nerve and vein, hot and angry, overwhelming, _possessing_. Shoulders began to quake, fingers clenching into the mess of fallen brown bangs. His smirk was now a teeth-chattering grin.

_John is a weak man…might as well just go home and choke himself in his closet. But me? Heh, I’ll get to the top…I’ll rule this damn place. They’ll see. And when I do…I’ll build my throne on top of their bloated carcasses…!_

“Daddy?”

Soft, tiny, heavy and slurred from sleep, the word snapped John out of his hypnotic musings, launching his head from his palms at such a speed his vision spun around him trying to steady, a startled gasp ripping from his lips and a full-body jerk that threatened to throw him out of his chair. He turned with movements more erratic than he’d meant to, and his wide blue and green eyes met instantly with large youthful ocean-colored irises staring up at him with no shred of surprise or fear, but instead welcomed the display of theatrical reactions with a half-lidded, expectant gaze.

“ _Oh_ shi—uh, ah, jeez….” After an episode of rapid blinks, John quickly reached for his glasses and put them back on, turning back to see the small figure still standing to his immediate right and regarded her with an exasperated sigh.

“H-Hey sweetheart…what, uh, what are you doing here?” Work was instantly pushed aside by the surge of parental instincts that took over, auto-piloting his next movements. Hastily he leaned forward towards the child and pulled the baggy pajamas shirt sleeves once bunched up at her tiny elbows back down to her wrists, an _I hope to God no one saw her like this_ jostling his nerves that much more. The last thing he needed was a bombardment of questions and raised eyebrows at _why does John’s daughter have tattoos on her arms?_

No, he didn’t want to think about _that_ right now.

“What did I say about wandering around outside the apartment by yourself? It’s not safe.” What was supposed to be a stern reprimand came out as a lackadaisical grunt, and he inwardly cursed at himself for sounding such a way in front of his daughter when he noticed her little pout had deepened into a concerned frown. _Good going, John. Make your seven-year-old worry about you._

“Daddy…” she began, but hesitated, dismissing whatever she intended to say with a “…the Nanny-Trap is broke again.”

_Of course it is…the stupid fucking robot._ “Yeah? What is it this time? Making pancakes or singing?”

“Pancakes,” she answered promptly, “ _a lot_ of pancakes. It won’t stop.”

John couldn’t help the chuckle that managed to slip through the knot in his throat, his fingers running absentmindedly through his hair. Glassy eyes glanced from his child’s face to the computer screen, staring at the email for another long pause before blinking back to see big bright eyes watching him curiously.

“Is Mr. Tassiter being mean again?”

_Smart kid._

“Nah, sweetheart. He’s just a grouchy old man and Daddy has to make sure…” _to what? Stay alive?_ “…that everything runs smoothly so he doesn’t get any grouchier.” With a reassuring smile and a wink, he then turned back around to save his progress before turning off the computer. He was tired, he was defeated, and tomorrow promised another day of crippling anxiety, but right now he wanted nothing more than to just snuggle into bed with a good book in one hand and his daughter tucked under the other and drift off into a world of knights, unicorns, and dragons with his little princess.

Back now turned from his daughter, John began shutting off computer monitors and organizing his desk for tomorrow. Without looking over his shoulder he continued, “how about we give Nanny-Trap the night off and get some of those pancakes, hm? I don’t know about you, but I could sure go for some syrupy-buttery-goodnes—”

“John…”

Delirium was a tricky mistress, and plagued at the man’s consciousness. Thinking nothing of it, he harrumphed humorously and continued what he was doing.

“Ohoho? First name basis, huh? What did your old man do to deserve—”

“ _John…please…_ ”

He was quick to pick up on the sudden drastic change in her tone; a frightened, exasperated gasp that _no_ parent ever wanted to hear from their child. “Pumpkin, are you oka—?”

“ _Jack…”_

John froze instantly as _fear_ rippled across his spine and up to his brain to blare loud warning sirens. How could she have known about…it was impossible; _no one_ knew about that name, about _him_. Slowly, cautiously, John sat back in his chair and almost timidly did he begin to turn back around to address his daughter.

And in a way, the face he saw when he turned around _was_ his daughter…or at least, had the same _eyes_ as her, the same freckles, same hair…save for half of her head being shaved almost bald, tube ports replacing her beautiful raven locks. When did her face become so…mature? Who was this… _woman_ , looking at him with the eyes of his innocent little girl?

“A-Angel?” He croaked, unable to grasp anything he was seeing.

The woman before him was a good foot shorter than himself – at what moment did he stand up? – head bent up to look at him with eyes that glistened in _pain_ , face scrunched in misery, her fully developed body sagged lifelessly as he soon realized the only thing keeping this woman upright was the massive blue pixilated hand that wrapped around her throat, large fingers squeezing indentions into her soft pale flesh.

John could only stare in utter horror, immobilized where he stood as he tried in vain to understand what he was looking at. Bulging eyes followed the blue hand, past the tattooed wrist, forearm, only to realize the hand that was strangling the woman, _his daughter_ , was his.

_What am I?! What am I doing!? W-Why can’t I stop it!?_

“J-Jack….” She choked and rasped between struggled breaths. Her eyes, those beautiful oceans gifted to her by her mother…were now distant and glossy.

_Angel! Please…please stop this!_

“ _Jack_ …p-ple-ease…help me.”

_AAANGEEELLLLL!!_

 

“ _NOOOO-Argh! Fff_ ucker!”

The first thing that greeted Jack into consciousness was, other than the loud _thud_ of bone meeting metal, was the vibrant assortment of colorful dots and stars followed by a thundering pain in his forehead. Any attempt to sit up was defeated when the abrupt drumline in his skull forced him back to the cold hard ground beneath him. He reached up to wrap his hands around the now bruising area of his head that collided with god-knows-what, enjoying the coldness of his palm against heated skin.

Teeth gnashed together angrily, curses and hisses slipping through to sizzle in his ears. His legs bent and straightened, back arching off the ground as the world sobered around him. In a fit of overwhelming frustration, he sailed one curled fist into the ground next to him, listening distantly as the loud bang of his rage echoed off the walls, _very close walls,_ around him.

These visions…memoirs of a dead man… technically _his_ broken memories…whatever made more sense, held together by the distorted fiction of his nightmares were a battle Jack constantly fought since the very moment he exited the glass cylinder tube he was cloned in…born in…whatever the hell it was he came out of wet with some sort of _sciencey-cloning-goo_ on his bare-ass-naked body. The scientists had once said it was a side-effect of the cloning; arguing the theory that overwhelming the brain with every memory at once would fry his subconscious, potentially putting him in a vegetative state, and instead it was safer that he accumulate the rest of them over time to prevent this.

Despite any sense the scientists made in that simplified explanation, it was still a giant pain in the ass.

Minutes of harsh breathing and grunting passed before Jack finally peeled his eyes open, vision already adjusted to the darkness he found himself in, able to make out shapes and silhouettes but unable to make out anything past the distant flashing of reds and blues around him. Small lights flickered and blinked in Jack’s eyes like stinging needles causing another chorus of grunts and curses as the older man tried to make sense of his surroundings.

Judging by the rancid taste in his mouth, massive headache, muscle soreness, and memory loss of prior events that led up to this…Jack was almost certain he’d gotten trashed and passed out in one of his shuttles…again.

_Ugh_. He was _not_ looking forward to the walk back to his office, that was for certain—

And then the swift backhand of reality hit him.

“Oh… _oh_ fuck…Rhys…w-where is… _Rhys_!” He rolled to his left knowing well sitting straight up would result in another excruciating headbang with the mysterious metal object, and picked himself up to stand on swaying legs, the speed of his movements bringing about a dizziness that made his stomach lurch.

He grabbed his face to try and steady the swirling, fingers dancing over the cold synthetic texture of his mask, over the metal clasps, until he rested his palm flat against his chest to feel the erratic beating of his heart. It had been a long time since something was able to put him in such a state; he’d experienced a lot of different hangovers and come-downs in his life, but _nothing_ like this…

_That fucking alien did this to me._

Muddled flashbacks of Rhys’ thin frame convulsing on the floor, how he tried to get to him, but not before that _disgusting thing_ stepped in front of him, putting its _creepy_ hand on his face, and then…

…it’d thrown Jack’s unconscious body in the old Atlas shuttle and made off with Rhys.

_That freaky little shit thinks it pulled one on me, thinks it can take me out and have what’s mine._

It started with a muscle spasm in his lip that spread to his chest, his shoulders, raising the hair on his arms to clench his fists tight enough to pop knuckles. Veins bulged and quivered as blood boiled hot and furious. His nostrils flared, and when he exhaled Jack could have sworn he saw smoke bellow.

He was going to _fucking kill something,_ that much he was sure of. Like an age-old friend, he welcomed the all-too familiar raw need to feel flesh and bone rip apart in his hands, to watch the life _drain_ from someone, most notably large black irises, until the _sweet generous_ release of death chilled the broken and battered remains of the bastard unlucky enough to awaken such a malicious side of him.

Images of Rhys bound to a bed of springs, bloody, barely conscious, being strangled by a tiny disgusting man flashed across his eyes like a damaged roll of film, fueling the growing fire inside him, driving him insane with a desperate thirst for blood.

From the very minute he met Rhys he knew instantly the kid was just a pretty face and more importantly a lackey; a _tool_ he could manipulate and bend to his will to get what he needed. At one point he promised himself he would get rid of the little bastard as soon as he was back on Helios.

But somewhere along the way, influenced by admiring stares, relatable conversations, charming smiles and witty banter, and that _nerd_ thing that just _did it for him_ in weird ways…not to mention the hidden badassery he never would have expected Rhys to possess…before he knew it, he was _infatuated_ with the lanky little noodle of a man.

But the telltale sign that told Jack he was more than infatuated, that he actually _loved_ the boy, was in these moments when the mere thought of someone hurting him would send Jack down an uncontrollable spiral into a blinding, raging, seething mass of unyielding fury with a bloodlust that no World War could satiate.

There was only _one_ other person in his entire life whose wellbeing could bring that monster out in him.

_And I’m coming for you too, sweetheart. Just hold on a little longer, babygirl…Daddy’s coming._

First, he needed to figure out how to get the hell out of this stupid little shuttle.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And by a surprising turn of events, escaping the confines of the antique space shuttle was as simple as turning a few knobs, which would have been a _wonderful_ tidbit of foresight before he’d blindly decided to slam his entire weight into the door. Ten minutes into being awake and he already missed Rhys’ nagging about _don’t that, Jack! You’ll hurt yourself! All we have to do is find a knob! Ugh, will you listen to me? Stop ignoring me!_

Goddamn did he miss that kid.

Once out, Jack was greeted with the familiar room he last saw Rhys and _the creature_ in. And with no surprise the vast room was empty except for the remaining details left behind that assured Jack the prior events had not been some hellish hallucination. Splatters of blood decorated the floor like spilled paint; some black, some purple, with other nauseated reminders left behind such as Rhys’ vomit and the crazed Eridian’s entrails still strewn about the ground like some sick portrait.

What was more concerning, however, was that the blood and vomit and entrails that littered the floor were _dry_ with the early stages of caking and cracking.

_Shit…how long was I out?_

Anxiety slithered up his sternum to constrict his lungs, and Jack shook his head to rid himself of the sensation. _Chill out. The kid’s stronger than you think. He can handle himself._

Easier said than believed.

A ticking noise echoed in the distant regions of Jack’s mind, a grim reminder that now time was of the upmost importance. He had to act fast, and knowing full well he would have to waste needless amounts of it running through dark passageways, opening doors that to nothing, stairs that lead nowhere helpful, he couldn’t stall any longer.

First thing’s first; light. Jack ran to the nearest wall and plucked three lit torches from their perch, grouping the bases of each together in his wide palm. The fire merged together and enveloped him in the mass of light and warmth, allowing features once shaded in the darkness to come to light around him, unveiling more oddities once ignored or unseen by the human eye.

When Jack raised his arm up to cast his light, he unveiled light fixtures far above the torches; aged bulbs, metal shades dusty and rusted with age. Thinking nothing of it once, he turned around, but paused to take another suspicious look at them.

_So this place isn’t as Neanderthal-approved as I thought…heh, shoulda known better than to underestimate Atlas…_

_…I wonder where the back-up generators are…? No, bad A.D.D. Rhys first, generators second._

Mental note pinned to his mental corkboard for later, Jack forced himself into a sprint down the pathway he’d originally taken to get to this room, jumping over the collapsed wall and into the hallway, sprinting down to practically leap down each case of stairs he came across, breezing past decisions that would otherwise need to be contemplated as he came to forked pathways.

When he rounded what he thought was another dark corner among the million before and most likely the million more to come, Jack suddenly dug his heels into the ground to kill his speed when his eyes registered various other _luminescent_ eyes watching his presence.

“Tch…great.” Just what he needed; Eridians. Three of them, to be exact. Two female, one male, all startled just as he was and poised on all fours for a hasty retreat. Silence fell tense and heavy around them as no one dared move or make a sound.

Like scattered tabs on a computer monitor, Jack’s thoughts organized on instinct, calculating his next course of actions:

_Hold one of them hostage?_ Yeah, that could work…if these things were human. He would rather not get horribly mutilated thank you very much.

_Run away?_ No, that wouldn’t do him any good. If they chased him or not, he was still lost.

_Just run past them?_ The most likely to happen, but still not productive.

_Charades? They could help you find Rhys._ Memories of blood-red eyes, layers of sharp teeth, and a tumultuous roar all flashed in front of his eyes. Yeah…no.

_Kill one of them? Send a message? Lure It to you?_ Pfft, sure. And while he’s at it he might as well slap a sign on his forehead that said _I’m A Huge Dumbass._ Moving on…

_...Charades?_ Dammit. Of course that was the most reasonable answer; the most ridiculous of them all but still the highest chance he had at finding Rhys. He’d seen firsthand at what these creatures were capable of and yet playing a stupid guessing game with them was the best option he had? No…no, there had to be another way. Handsome Jack didn’t play child games with aliens! He pillaged, he conquered, he controlled, he _demanded_ what he wanted!

“Alright, you little bastards,” Jack growled and took a step forward, “tell me where Rhys is.”

His demand was answered with blank stares.

Clearing his throat and puffing his chest, he tried again this time more forcefully. “Don’t play dumb with me, you know what I’m here for!”

All three Eridians exchanged a look of bewilderment before turning back to watch the bigger man’s tantrum. Finally, with less hesitance, they turned to exit into one of the nearby doorways.

“No! Wait! No, no, no, don’t leave!” Jack flailed his hands about, stopping them from retreating and catching the last shred of their attention. _Dammit…dammit…DAMMIT._

“Okay…” his blue and green eyes wandered about area around him in deep thought, and with a long sigh he decided to give in to his most dreaded decision. “I’m,” he said slow and pointed to himself, “looking,” he put his hand above his eyes and pretended to look around the hallway, “for a man. Hu-Man.” With torches in one hand he motioned a body-shaped silhouette out of thin air, “other guy. Rhys. _Rhyyys._ Tall,” his hand moved to the air beside his own head, “nerd. _Nerrrd._ Yeah, that was not helpful…” judging by the tilt of their crowned heads and scrunched brows it was blatantly obvious that Jack was utterly horrible at this game.

Growing ever more frustrated by the second, Jack growled desperately, “oh, _c’mon_! Nothing? Seriously?”

And so began a series of frantic body movements and motions defining various words pertaining to the matter at hand.

“Person! Man! Meh-tul _Arrrm_!” He switched topics. “Caretaker. BIG. EYES. Creepy! TALL. Robes. Long-Blllack-Rooobes.” Jack, winded and exhausted, paused the game to catch his breath. To his dismay, his little audience were now watching him with all the astonishment of onlookers watching a street dance performance.

Wonderful…just _freaking_ wonderful.

Rhys was missing; captured by that freakish creature and stowed away somewhere within the massive maze of a military base around him. The kid was probably lost and helpless, wherever he was, and all the while Jack was wasting time playing _fucking Charades_ with a bunch of ignorant ancient aliens.

It was too overwhelming, and with a shaky breath Jack dropped his shoulders and rubbed the bridge of his nose in an attempt to calm himself.

“…Look,” he started wearily, “I know none of this makes sense to you, but work with me here. I’ve lost my friend—well, he’s not _just_ my friend, it’s…it’s _complicated,_ okay? My _partner_ , Rhys, has been taken by _your_ scary friend, er, whatever it is to you, I don’t know. How would you feel if someone drugged your ass and took off with your…your… _significant other_?” Wait, what? Is that what he was calling Rhys now? “Yeah, you’d feel shitty too. So please, _please_ , help me out here will ya? Throw me a bone or something. If you know where _Rhys_ is…or if you know where your scary parental-thing is…what’s name…Ka-Kay-Coo-Kai-Kite, no, that’s not right- Caecus…Caecus! That’s its name! Caecus. Anyway, if anyone—”

He jumped and tensed when one of the Eridians let out a gurgled yowl. The male’s eyes widened and turned to exchanged glances and other throaty sounds to one of the females behind him in a private conversation before all three turned back to Jack apprehensively.

Jack watched them in anticipation, hooked on every expression and movement they made. “Yes? Yes! Caecus! Where’s _Caecus_?”

His question was answered quicker than he'd hoped. The male Eridian crept forward and motioned one irregular claw to him, curling his hand as if to call Jack forward as he began to step back. Knowing the gamble he’d just made, Jack knew there was no option; he had to follow these creatures, to put his faith in the hands of these mysterious aliens despite the horrors he’d seen prior. They could lead him to a painful death for all he knew, but _death_ from any angle now was something he could no longer avoid—as that was the basis of this entire journey anyway, so to stop here because of the fear of _death_ was no excuse. With this in mind, Jack began to follow the aliens, albeit cautiously, and accepted that whatever was to happen next he would keep himself alive just as he’d done all the times before…

For Rhys. For himself. For a future with the young man that over time he’d grown to want more than anything in this world.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

With expert navigation, the Eridians led Jack through the winding maze of dark hallways, doors, and staircases before stopping at the entrance of one particularly dark and seemingly endless path. The short male gazed down the pathway with a strange hesitance before turning to look at Jack expectantly, who in turn flickered his eyes from the aliens to the path numerous times.

They would go no further. He would have to continue onward alone.

Something about that didn’t sit well in his gut.

“Ah…” Jack raised his hand to rub the back of his neck, an uncharacteristic habit he’d picked up from a _certain someone_ , “…thanks,” and nodded awkwardly toward the aliens before continuing down the pathway.

However long he spent venturing through the narrow stretch was a mystery to him, and just as he had reached the light of the next room his torches unveiled yet another oddity that would otherwise be hidden in the pitch black darkness around him; built into the wall to his left was a large square metal plaque. One large acrylic arrow pointed to the room ahead of him, and above the sign in large capital font were the words:

**LAUNCH BAY: C**

Silent and without hesitation Jack turned from the sign and entered the next room, eyes widening and jaw slacking when he realized the very room he entered was an exact replica of the other massive room he had discovered the shuttle in.

They were launch bays! God, why was that just now making sense?! Massive rooms with steep coned ceilings. These were where the shuttles loaded and launched. Jack felt like smacking the stupid right out of himself and if the moment had allowed such he would have laughed at how easy his perception succumbed to the dark shadows that distorted this giant Atlas structure—

Movement in his right peripheral pulled Jack instantly out of his thoughts, and as soon as he turned to get a good look at whatever it was, his grip on the torches in his hand almost slipped when panic jolted his body forward in an all-out sprint.

A large crumpled heap of clothing was the only thing Jack’s eyes cared to process as desperation blinded him from anything further his mind was willing to comprehend. His sprint, however, fizzled to a halfhearted jog once he realized the mass he was approaching was not Rhys…but something more perplexing.

He stopped just a foot from the clump and froze, eyes large and breath caught in his throat.

_Couldn’t be…_

In the midst of the heap, laying irregularly in the nest of wrinkled black fabric was a pale white face, _Caecus_ , staring at him with the only functioning eye it had left after the attack. No, Jack realized instantly, it wasn’t staring at _him_ , just…open, vacant, _lifeless._ Past the void stare he could make out the rest of the alien’s body; crumpled in its many layers of robes.

Subconsciously, Jack’s foot inched forward and tapped the limp white hand sticking out of the mound with the point of his shoe. It didn’t move.

_Holy shit…_

A gentle waft of air caressed Jack’s face, and in a single blink something in the room changed.

Slowly, Jack raised his head and dragged his eyes away from the corpse at his feet to see Rhys standing just a few feet across from the older man on the other side of the lifeless mound, the younger man’s eyes hidden behind the veil of lashes as he stared down at Caecus’ body. His thin face completely void of any expression, his thin frame so utterly still it took Jack a few seconds to register just what he was seeing, and when the other man’s presence finally dawned on him he couldn’t contain the surprised gasp that filled his lungs.

“Rhys?!” Jack broke the silence, his tone so tight and high-pitched he almost didn’t recognize his own voice. He waited for Rhys’ reaction, but nothing happened. The younger man remained unfazed by Jack’s call, continuing his intense stare at the body, that unfamiliar stoic expression never faltering.

_Did he not hear me?_

“Hey…Rhys. Pumpkin, you okay?” His eyes flickered to the man’s hip, startling himself when he noticed the sword’s sheath hanging at his side, straps tied through the belt loops of his pants. Where he had found that old thing after all this time was a question for another day, but it did manage to answer one of the most puzzling questions in present time.

“No way…no _freakin_ way. Kitten, did you…?” Jack let out a skeptic, breathless laugh as he stepped forward and over Caecus in one long stride toward his companion. “…you _killed_ this thing? What…I mean, how did you…? With the _butter knife_? Rhysie…hey, pumpkin, you in there?” Jack walked up to Rhys and looked him up and down, concern overwhelming skepticism when the thinner man had yet to move an inch.

Jack tentatively raised his hand, seconds away from snapping his fingers in the boy’s face. Was he in shock? Had there been a terrifying fight for his life that left him this traumatized? “Rhys, c’mon kiddo, your freakin me out—”

“Jacque…how _pleasant_ it is to see you awake.”

He missed the portion of time when Rhys raised his head, for the next thing Jack knew he was staring straight at Rhys’ face, the illusion of his handsome smile and warm eyes staring back at Jack had melted away into a sight sinister enough to make the very CEO of Hyperion _tremble_.

Rhys’ mouth was open and twisted in one of the widest grins he’d ever seen on the boy’s face. His brown eye was so largely dilated there _was_ no brown…only a black pupil. His blue eye…

As he’d been told many times, blue was Rhys’ preferred color setting as it represented his favorite color. And each time Jack had heard that explanation he couldn’t help but agree and state that it was the very same reason Jack would change it to _yellow_ every time he hacked the boys cybernetics.

_Red_ …red was not an optional color. And right now, the Echo eye’s red glow told Jack that the boy’s cybernetics had been hijacked by an unrecognizable force.

_No…_

The torches fell from his hand to drop to the floor, clattering and rolling and forgotten. The hand that reached out for Rhys was now recoiling back with uncontrollable tremors. His body leaned back far enough that his foot had to slide along the ground to catch his weight from behind, his other foot following suit shortly after.

“Hmm? You seem troubled, Jacque.” Rhys tilted his head to the side, his grin faltering somewhat. He moved his arms up in a slow fluid motion until they outstretched toward Jack in a welcoming manner. “No need to be _troubled~_. Come, let us rejoice!” That was Rhys’ voice…and yet it wasn’t, and it set fire to Jack’s crumbling sanity.

His world was shattering around him. _Rhys…where did you go?_ He stared deep into the face of his lover in front of him, _begging_ , _desperate_ for even a shred of familiarity of the boy he’d fallen so hard for.

No matter how hard he stared, he couldn’t find him.

“…r-rejoice….”

“Yes,” the man, _alien_ , grinned at him, “there is no need for sorrow, Jacque. Save yourself from such distraught and rej—”

“ _WHAT DID YOU DO?!_ ” Shaking fists surged forward and seized Rhys by the front of its shirt, hoisting the tall man’s body up to balance on the tips of its toes. Jack was in its face in seconds, brows furrowed and eyes wild, lips pulled back into a malicious snarl. His broad chest heaved air in and out through flared nostrils.

“Where is he!? Where is Rhys!? _GODDAMMIT,_ what did you do to him!?” He shook the alien, screamed and spat, the clothing clenched between his fingers ripping, white knuckles digging into collarbones without restraint. Black spots seeped into the corners of Jack’s vision, threatening to consume him into a blinding rage. No, not now. He couldn’t blackout now…not when the only thing he could rip apart in his rampage was _Rhys_.

The toothy grin on the younger man’s face was replaced with a flatlined expression, large black and red eyes stared down at the broken man’s theatrics, entire demeanor apathetic toward his pleas. When it spoke it took its time, opening its mouth and letting it hang open quietly before it replied mundanely,

“Rhys is no longer in this world, Jacque.”

And with that said, Jack lost his mind.

_“FUCK YOU.”_ He launched the creature  back several feet in the air, expecting it to fall flat on it ass so he could pounce, but never got the chance as Rhys caught its footing and landed adroitly on two feet, unfazed by the entire spectacle. It stood tall and stiff, watching Jack like one would study a cornered animal.

The older man was breathing hard enough to wheeze, the ache in his chest far worse than the puncture wounds he endured. His thoughts were nonsensical gibberish save for the alien’s haunting words that drifted through the mess of his fractured mind, driving him forward in stumbling schleps.

“Lying, deceitful, pathetic _trash_!” Jack snarled. “He _trusted_ you! _Defended_ you! And you…you…this is what you wanted all along?! Sick sonofabitch, you got into his head, wormed around, all just to _use_ him?!”

“…Did you not do the same?”

The question was so blatant and innocent it took a second for Jack to realize what the alien had just said. “I…excuse me?”

Rhys’ head twitched, as if it snapped out of its thoughts to join the confrontation again. “There are memories recorded and stored within the hard drive. One in particular…that is how you two met, is it not?” The way he spoke about it, so _matter-of-factly_ and with no emotion, it was _mocking;_ no care for another’s life, to rummage through someone’s private memories as if they meant _nothing_.

“You don’t know a _goddamn_ thing about me, or about Rhys. So don’t you _dare_ run your _fucking_ mouth like that.”

Jack wasn’t quite sure which part of his comment had caused Rhys’ _parasite_ to suddenly smile at him, but it made his stomach churn with the desire to rip it from its face…if it wasn’t for the sole fact that it was _Rhys’ face_ , he would have.

“You claim I know nothing about you…it is…how do you say…so _imbecilic_ of you to assume such.”

So it was _that_ comment that caused such a reaction, and Jack growled low his chest when he heard it call him a _fucking imbecile._

“He who rules the Eye in the Sky…the one who’s title flatters his outward appearance….”

“Fuck you, you body snatching _parasite._ ”

“…is that term directed at one who feeds off the life of another? Interesting…then I shall use it as well. You, who _parasites_ off this planet, using its life force for death and war, you create machines that destroy…”

There was a haunting pause, as Rhys contemplated its next words. “…yes…I know you far better than you believe me to.”

_This motherfu—_

“Really?” Jack snorted, deciding to take another approach to its words before he accidently killed this thing and destroy Rhys’ body in the process. “Okay…” he nodded, crossing his arms and squaring his shoulders, “and, uh…tell me something; how do you know all this? _Enlighten_ me, if you would be so _kind._ ” _Arrogant twat._

Rhys stared at Jack long enough for the older man to twitch uncomfortably, breaking the stare to glimpse at its old body laying forgotten on the ground, then finally to the ceiling so far above them. It held that look longer than it had on Jack. “…if there is any human-equivalence that you may understand, then very well….the voice of the heavens.”

Well _that_ was farfetched. Jack sighed loudly, rolling his eyes so hard his head lolled back. “Just _one_ ounce of sense out of you would be nice for a change. S’all I’m asking for. Care to humor me, asshole?”

The borrowed body did not move as it continued gazing upward in a trance-like state, and Jack waited in the silence of the room for the thing to speak all the while keeping a vigilant watch over it, the ache in his chest only growing more severe with every passing second he scrutinized the body in front of him, of what was once a sweet, naïve young man… _his_ sweet, naïve young man… _his_ Rhys.

“…very well~.”

The sudden statement pulled Jack back to the present, flinching back with a sneer as the alien had moved swiftly during his distraction and was now strolling casually around Jack to the empty vessel of its old body. It bent down and plucked a particular article of clothing, one of the layers of its robes, from the pile and rose with it gently clenched in the organic hand. Cybernetic fingers traced the fibers absentmindedly.

“…For thousands of years,” it began slowly, choosing its words carefully, “…I have lived to see many astounding things. My kind…we were bred for strength and wisdom…to protect and preserve…yet we were not prepared to protect and preserve ourselves. It was…so long ago, however…" another long pause, "...may you never experience human extinction…acknowledging that _you are the only one of your kind left_ in the universe, Jacque. It is a most…indescribable loneliness, a pain uncanny to any I have felt.”

“ _Death_ becomes more frightening than you can ever imagine, and _life_ …the need to survive…overwhelms all other necessities.” It was then that it glanced down at its old body, and Jack watched Rhys’ expression morph into one of utter disgust, a twisted scowl, and he could say that was the first time he’d seen the alien express _genuine_ emotion.

“…my real body died many centuries ago…”

“So, wait a second,” Jack decided then to intercede the alien’s laments with a sarcastic snort, “you’re telling me that creepy-ass thing you were isn’t your real body?” It nodded silently in reply, and Jack decided to take a mile with that info.

“ _Well,_ I guess I shouldn’t be so surprised. I mean, with the way you _wined, dined, and fucked_ over Rhysie here, you seemed like you had some serious experience in that field.” He wanted to get a rile out of the bastard, get it vulnerable and wait for it to become distracted, _anything_ to figure out how to get it out of Rhys’ body…that maybe if he found a way to remove it or destroy it…he could get Rhys back. But no matter what he said, what thoughtless jab he threw at the alien, it remained passive and stoic.

There _had_ to be a way.

“…one cannot be particular if death is a mere shallow breath away, Jacque,” Rhys tutted in a bemeaning way, causing another indignant growl from Jack’s throat in which it ignored and continued on with its story, “…this body, however, could not serve me for long. Where limbs rotted and organs failed, I acquired… _artificial parts_ to replace them. Time passed, and I soon realized I had altered this body to a point where I could not simply transfer into a new one; my abundance of selections was narrowed down to a critical few.”

Out of the entire longwinded speech, Jack listened enough to come up with one outcome, “so humans were the only thing you could find, huh? Sounds like you didn’t look very hard….”

“…mmm, not necessarily _humans_ ~,” whether the alien meant to or not, he caused Rhys’ voice to purr slyly, a tone that would have normally sounded so enticing to Jack now made him want to break its neck.

“…okay, well you’re losing me here, pal. And I’m also starting to lose my—” _…oh._

It only took a second for the creature’s explanation to sink in completely, and when it did Jack nearly dropped his jaw. His eyes narrowed in on Rhys, watching as the alien began to wrap itself in the black robe, engulfing the man’s thin frame until it hugged every muscle and curve in black fabric. While it busied itself with tying the sash around its waist, Jack finished his broken sentence with his newfound discovery.

“You… you altered your body to the point where you became a cyborg,” _like Wilhelm, “_ …and…and without realizing it you trapped yourself into becoming an…” _holy shit, “…_ you’re an A.I…you created a redundant array of consciousness, so if your real one, the _biological_ one, died…no…it _did_ die, didn’t it?” It was all making sense now. “And because the…redundancy of consciousness you didn’t realize it until after, until it was too late…didn’t you?” Okay, he had to be careful not to confuse _himself_ with this one.

“You turned yourself into a _fucking_ A.I and didn’t even realize it?”

“…when you convert it into such a fundamental way of understanding it, then yes.”

_Mind. Blown._

“I’m gonna throw some straight up honesty at you real quick; I still want to wipe your existence from this planet for what you did to Rhys, but…I gotta say that is the most impressive and also most moronic thing I have ever heard someone do to themselves in my entire life. Well done.” To add insult to injury with a dash of flattery, he couldn’t stop himself from clapping a few times to emphasize his point. “Alright, so yeah, mystery solved. Rhys was the most likely candidate because of his cybernetic implants, right?”

It nodded quietly.

Crossed _that_ one off the list.

“…I had attempted with many humans before I realized what I was...” with a finishing tug on the sash, he then picked and perfected any of the kinks in his wardrobe, _obviously_ finding his _new body_ entertaining and using the wrinkles of the robe as an excuse to observe and learn. It was a strange mixture of innocence and intimacy, and it made it hard for Jack to understand the sudden knot of jealousy twisting in his gut; perhaps it was not jealousy, but an innate feeling of possessiveness that overcame him as he watched the alien.

Rhys continued though still absorbed in smoothing the wrinkles from the fabric, “…I heard those _incidents_ involving my failed attempts with transferring to human bodies lead to hearsay amongst the human inhabitants of this planet. I acquired a certain… _following_?”

“I’ll say,” Jack snorted. “Your youngest fan, and probably the _President_ of the freakin club is an eight-year old orphan who listens to your stories of mutilation before she falls asleep at night.”

“Fascinating.”

“No, it’s not.” Jack glared, folding his arms to his chest when he felt his patience slipping at an alarming rate. “It’s disturbing, _you’re_ disturbing, and this entire fucking situation is _disturbing_! Of all the scum suckers, you _had_ to pick the one person in this entire galaxy that actually _mattered_?” _Why Rhys? You could have had anyone with cybernetic implants. Shit, I would have thrown Wilhelm at it, if he was still alive, in a heartbeat if it meant that Rhys didn’t have to be the one…_

Jack tore his eyes away when the very thought made him nauseous, and he glared at particularly nothing in the distance of the vast room around them. He waited, and when he was confident his nerves had calmed, even somewhat, he continued, “…of all people… _fuck me_ , he was…he _is_ a good kid, never did anything wrong to anyone, hell he couldn’t even fight a Rakk without curling into a ball. But you…you had your eye on him for a while, you said so. Why is that?”

He waited patiently as the alien had found a sudden odd fascination with the boy’s chestnut hair, curling its fingers in and out of it, rustling the locks into a curly mess before smoothing it back and repeating the same action.

“…Rhys is… _special_ …a gift from above when my darkest time fell upon me.”

“Care to elaborate?”

All at once it removed its hands from its thick head of hair and gave Jack an intense look. “…the Eridians were ill when I arrived here some years ago…driven to a desolate sanction of their own rightful planet, I had sworn to care for them, protect them, _shield them_ from the extinction I had witnessed with my own kind. Although I went to great links to achieve such that body would not allow me to do what I wanted.”

“…over the years their species diminished in vast quantities, and I could do nothing to prevent it…I believed that achieving a life without death was possible…but…” There it was again, the _scowl_ , which furrowed Rhys’ brows and scrunched his nose; Jack always found that expression to be the most adorable thing on the planet…but now it only made the young man look like a _demon_.

“…death is _inevitable_ , it is our ultimatum. Even as I am, a _sentient A.I_ , I am still unable to cheat death…and as I watched what was left of these docile creatures succumb to their illness and become a memory of once was…I too would join them…”

“…until,” it’s features suddenly softened, “…a voice from the sky called out to me.” It raised both flesh and metal arms high above its head that reminded Jack of those religious followers he’d seen on the Echo.T.V programs that worshipped unseen higher powers in the universe.

_Voice from the sky?_

To Jack’s growing discomfort, Rhys’ mouth stretched into that horrifying grin he’d first seen on the boy’s face, and it sent a chill down his spine.

Its voice took on a lighter tone as it said, “…it promised wonderful things…spoke to me with gentility and a prophecy of great change to come to this planet that could save the Eridians. It knew my dilemmas, and it assured change, reconstruction… It promised an escape from _death…_ from _The Nothing.”_

_The Nothing…?_ Something about that statement sounded off an alarm somewhere in the deepest recesses of Jack’s mind, a term he somehow felt all _too_ familiar with but for some strange reason could not remember an exact time or place he’d heard it. _The Nothing. I know I’ve heard that term._

He was only half-listening to the aliens babbling now, too absorbed with trying to solve the enigma in his head over why those two words sparked such an anxious wretch in his gut.

Rhys’ voice carried through the large empty room, getting louder with each word it spoke. “And one day…it spoke to me again, and said that my reasoning for being alive…my existence…was for a great purpose in this universe. That same day it gave me a gift and requested a favor, to which I will carry out dutifully and without question.”

Just as Rhys had finished its speech, a memory sparked in Jack’s head.

_A campfire. A starry night. There were people sleeping near the campfire…Rhys…yeah, Rhys was there. I woke him up. He seemed pretty agitated at me._

_Those people…they were his friends. I remember them now._

_“…you… ever heard of_ The Nothing _? It’s like…” he began, but immediately paused. “…like a…hm…you know how some people believe in an afterlife? Y’know, like pearly white gates and clouds if you’re good, fire and brimstone if you’re bad?”_

_Pixelated eyes turned to Rhys, roaming over his frame. “But what if…there was another ending. Hear me out…_ what if _, after everything is gone, you_ still _had your thoughts. You can’t see, can’t feel, can’t hear anything. You don’t have a body, so you can’t move even if you thought you could. Everything’s…_ gone, _accept the ability to think about everything and nothing. Time…time doesn’t even exist there… in The Nothing.”_

_Ah-ha! Now I remember! Yeah, it was about a month or two before I got cloned, back when I…was…._

Jack snapped out the memory as if it had physically burned him, and he stumbled back when the answer he found to this puzzling turn of events more heinous than he could have ever imagined. He looked up, and sorely wished he would have paid a little more attention to the alien instead of spending so much time in his head. If he had, maybe he would have been able to get away in time. Maybe he would have noticed when Rhys had chosen to close the ten-foot window between them so he wouldn’t be inches from those _hellish black and red eyes and that psychotic grin._

When Rhys spoke, the words came out in a way Jack had never heard before, and for the first time in many years Handsome Jack could admit he was _terrified_ by it.

“… _you want to know what it gave me, and what it asked of me, Jacque?”_

_Rhys…A.I…The Nothing…It was him all along._

When Jack said nothing, it replied anyway, robotic hand moving to grip the handle of the sword at its waist, “ _…Rhys was the loveliest gift anyone had ever given me…and it promised me more of these wonderful gifts if I completed what was requested of me.”_

_You manipulative sonofabitch...I should have wiped you from Helios the first chance I got._

“ _…Rejoice, dear Jacque. Your sacrifice will serve a much greater purpose in this world.”_

“Caecus,” Jack called out, his tone low and firm, “listen to me, it’s all a trap. You’ve been—”

Rhys swung its arm up, heavy metal grating against thick leather hissed through the air as the blade swung up, and just before Jack’s eyes met with the gleaming silver, unseen by either human or alien, was the fraction of a second glitch in the cybernetic arm, caused by an unseen force watching the scene from the confines of his internal prison, anguished screams unheard by the outside world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehe...yeah, I'm gonna go eat some comfort ice cream and watch Parks and Rec. #feelgoodtime
> 
> If anyone was confused by anything, please don't hesitate to ask me questions! It was a little hard to write certain parts, so I completely understand! And I hope Jack's Point of View was to your liking. That guy is hard as hell to write!
> 
> All comments are welcome! Feel free to tell me what you thought of it. :3 Thank you for reading, and see ya next time!


	23. Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY FOR MY ABSENCE! Thank you all so much for putting up with my delay! 2017 has got to be the busiest year for me, and finally it let up enough for me to get a chapter out! A reeeeeeally long chapter XD. Thank you all for your continuous support on my story, I'm left speechless at how many comments I received asking me if I was going to update. 
> 
> And then there is this unbelievably badass fanart I found on tumblr, created by the AMAZING fuckinmouthbreather. Srsly guys, go check them out if you have time! Their artwork is amazing!
> 
> And lastly, RIP to Chris Cornell, who hearing of his passing was very sad. Some of his music was the inspiration to the feel of this story, and I'd always been a big fan of his since way back. As music is a big variable to my writing, I had to give him a shout out <3.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY. So this chapter is extremely long, like 10K long. And you might notice Jack is not the only one that has a point of view, so I apologize if there's any serious OOC, as I have NEVER written any of these characters before lol. Warnings apply: violence, strong language, very slight gore, angst, LOTS of angst, and perhaps some bad grammar and typos XD 
> 
> Enjoy!

Soft, humming vibrations of small motors working in harmonious consistency saved the room from complete silence, bright flashes of light from the multitude of computer monitors repelled the darkness, keeping the unwanted shadows at bay.

 _Unwanted_ , as if ever first considered wanted or desired. Illogical thinking. But however illogical, a strained, thick sensation in the chest cavity argued an unknown latter yet to have been acknowledged and observed—

“Yo~, gimme the low-down. Across the board, kitten.”

The sensation instantly dissipated, taking with it the fleeting theory of the logic behind irrelevant desires. Blue eyes, dull and hardened, blinked from the many monitors to the new presence simulated in the middle of the room, body soon joining with a stiff turn to fully address the request.

“Approximately forty-seven minutes until arrival, sir.”

A silent nod was the only reply. A signal to continue.

“Bays A through J are accepting all guest shuttles; verification codes are being collected per individual immediately after docking. Accommodations are ready for the recent and oncoming arrivals. Bays J through ZC are under heavy surveillance, screening protocol of any vessel approximately ten miles before authorization to board….” As the status report continued for several minutes, covering a multitude of events simultaneously taking place; from the staff to the soldiers, from the celebration preparations to the arriving guests being shuffled into the space station, it appeared as though the blue hologram began to express artificial emotions from the display of physical appearance; eyes lifting from one corner of the eyelid to the other, exasperated sighing, posture shifting from one leg to the other. The purpose to display such unnecessary artificial emotions remained an enigma for future research.

“…engines one, two, and three are at medium capacity, four, five, and six are on cool-down sequence—”

“Lovely! And what about that one shuttle that docked on Y about, _ooh_ I don’t know, almost an hour ago?”

A pause. Thoughts re-filtered and status re-evaluated. A shuttle boarded Bay Y approximately one hour from present. The temptation to turn back to the monitors to further investigate was considered, but instantly disregarded when the hologram stepped quietly closer, each stride intentionally timed with the emphasis of its next words.

“ _Sweetie pie,_ I asked you a question.”

Eyelids flickered at the statement. An unknown reaction quickly forgotten.

“…I am unable to determine an appropriate response at this time, sir. I request further research into the status of—”

“ _EEH!_ Wrong answer.”

A rapidly humming motor was the only warning offered before cold hard steel wrapped around a thin pale throat, gripping flesh, tendon, muscle, with careful precision and lifted the body inches from the ground. Providing oxygen to the lungs became difficult, flesh bruising, genetic instincts twitched limp fingers to reach for the offending object, to _claw, fight, remove the threat_. But such actions without authorization or instruction was _illogical_.

“ _Tch-tch-tch,_ no…no, this isn’t good.” The hologram stopped just a foot from the suspended body, pixilated head tilted up and to the side in a show of disapproval and temperament, eyes narrowed and lips peeled into a snarl. “An unidentified shuttle _landed_ on _this_ station…five mutilated soldiers and one poor custodian later and I still have _three_ unidentified beings hiding somewhere in my massive-ass ship with _unknown_ intentions…” the volume of its voice increased with each word, “…if I didn’t think you could you manage your responsibilities, I would have already caught this before it made such a mess, _but_ I gave _you_ this responsibility so that I wouldn’t have to _watch over the ENTIRE GODDAMN SHIP._ ”

A gasped choke rushed up the constricted throat through parted trembling lips; an unconscious act that became a beneficial variable when the sound caused the hologram to stiffen, simulated eyelids closed and opened, expression empathetic yet thoughtful. The steel clamps lessened their strength around the fragile throat, gears humming as it lowered the suspended body back to the ground. It was easy to assume the clamp remained in its position to keep the body upright.

A strangled sigh, “Angel…sweetie, Daddy has a lot on his plate right now, and if he has to keep micromanaging your work then what’s the point of you doing it? Do you want to sit in _the room_ and wait until the party instead?”

 _The room._ Unfamiliar and distant, the sensation akin to an electric current traveled across Angel’s limbs and into her chest, bringing back a restriction to her lungs in a somewhat similar fashion to the earlier constriction from the metal clamps. Pulse-rate increased. An internal, instinctual response.

_Fear._

Her voice was barely a whisper, seized by the emotion she did not fully understand as she replied, “… _No, sir._ ”

“Then I suggest you do your _fucking_ job. Find those little stowaways and get ri— you know what? No.” In an instant, the hologram changed directive; a tight-lipped grin replaced the furious snarl, eyes wide and calculating with amusement. Angel had seen it many times before, having instantly concluded that the A.I behind the blue pixels was capable of disregarding the most logical solution with a more complex, strategic alternative. A game.

The steel clamps released the young woman’s throat, and true to her earlier theory, taking away the extra support and allowing her body to react to the fatigue of oxygen deprivation and collapse to the ground on her knees, legs splayed out underneath her, one arm extended and locked at the elbow, anchoring her upper half to stay upright and allowing her other hand to instinctively reach up to inspect the damage it had done to her throat. The very second fingers met the abused flesh the intensity of the pain froze her fingers from inspecting further.

Before she could consider her next action, the familiar cool hard sensation of steel made contact with the underside of her jaw just under her chin, lifting it without hesitation and bringing her head up to stare at the massive expansion of blue pixels now standing over her crumpled frame, simulated body leaning forward, arm outstretched until its large hand engulfed the clamp, creating the illusion that the cold steel burning her chin was from the fingers that hovered there.

Organic blue eyes met artificial blue eyes, impassive expression collided with a sinister smile. When the hologram spoke, the closest similarity Angel could comprehend to the tone was an impossible blend of cruelty and sarcastic-sincerity.

“…I want you to keep an eye on them. Let’em… _scurry_ around my space station for now. I have a pretty good idea as to _who_ it may be with the big enough balls…hehe, no, big enough _tits_ to think they can pull a fast one on ol’ Jack…” a sigh, a quick glance to nothing in the distance, and finally a small haughty chuckle, “…you’d think they’d change tactics after all this. Do I honestly look like the type of moron to fall for that shit again?”

Despite the hologram knowing well the answer to its own question, it wanted to hear it from someone else. Angel obliged to the strange actions of the hologram with a quiet reply.

“No, sir.”

“Good answer, sweetie. Glad to know we’re on the same page.” The clamp released her chin to retreat into the recesses of the room from where it came, and before Angel could allow her body to relax the hologram leaned down to one knee in front of her, inches taller, inches closer, and she suppressed the want to flinch when a large blue hand hovered close to the right side of her face in a way a human would attempt skin contact in a show of fondness and sentiment. A strange gesture from an A.I.

The hologram stared at her with a foreign expression. “I may have been a bit dickish with my approach. Got a little carried away. When I first found out I panicked, I’ll be honest, thought maybe, maybe you knew something about…history trying to repeat itself, y’know?”

 _History repeating itself_. To what history the hologram was referring to remained unknown to Angel, that perhaps her creator had neglected to share with her prior. This was soon proven factual, as the chain of facial expressions that followed, the hologram had then quickly said, “oh, that’s right, you _don’t_ know.” It smiled reassuringly, the reassurance more for itself than for her.

“I made sure of that.”

And in the blink of an eye, the hologram disappeared altogether, leaving Angel to stare silently at the few remaining blue pixels dancing out of existence, listening intently to the voice echoing in the room around her.

“Get back to what you were doing, and keep me in the loop with our _special_ guests. Oh! And don’t forget to be ready by tomorrow evening like we originally discussed. Don’t want my little star to be late for her _big performance._ ”

That last statement replayed in the young woman’s head minutes after she had confirmed the A.I was gone, leaving Angel to further question why she had yet to lift herself up and continue her work as requested and instead remain in her crumpled state on the cold steel floor. By now the routine visits from her creator were expected, as were the abrupt and hostile artificial mood swings she was subjected to daily, the rare moments of physical contact to her person from the ever-vigilant clamps and other contraptions kept hidden in the room in waiting for when the A.I needed to demonstrate the authority of its words. All of this was expected and clearly understood by Angel.

But what she never understood, and could not comprehend any logical explanation behind, was that after some of the more severe moments like the one that had just transpired, the young raven-haired woman would lift her hands up to her face to feel the warm streams of fluid that would excrete from her tear ducts, just as she was currently doing at this very moment.

Such an emotional response was always perplexing to Angel, and unable to determine the reason behind it, would immediately file it away with the other confusing reactions she was unable to process accurately.

Among them were a few others she had planned to revisit at some point…most notably, the one where her stomach and chest would become riddled with painful cramps after staring at the holographic image of her creator for longer than necessary, that the human form the A.I would use to identify itself with caused emotional responses she found herself unable to explain; anguish, guilt, _longing_ , but for what she could not say.

And the other response, the one that brought about an eruption of overwhelming _anxiety_ and accelerated heart rate…was the desperate need, a _craving,_ to watch the destruction of that same sentient being that had brought her into this world.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“ _How interesting~…._ ”

Somewhere between the soft padding of feet against the ground, the harsh gasps of fright, and the scraping of sharp metal along the ground in tune with the approaching footfalls, Jack had heard Caecus’ curious comment, using Rhys’ vocals to accentuate a childlike wonder and fascination of what had suddenly taken place…or rather, what _didn’t_ happen that _should_ have.

“ _…the trajectory guaranteed a lethal blow…_ ”

One of the only times Jack could admit he agreed with the delusional alien; that attack _should_ have sliced him wide open from the right side of his chest to his left temple. He _should_ be a bleeding corpse right now.

And because of what _should_ have happened _did not_ happen, Jack found himself in a half-sitting-half-sprawled position on the ground, tailbone aching from the fall back, right arm out behind him to keep himself somewhat upright, left hand clutching his face out of sheer fear conjured from the notion that he had to keep whatever damage already done from worsening. His eyes, visible from the gaps of his fingers, wide and alarmed, stared at Caecus but could not see him through the frantic speed of his thoughts racing across his vision, consuming him, screaming at his trembling body to get up and _get the fuck out of there now._

 _Too close._ It was so fast, too fast, and what frightened him more was knowing full well he was not responsible for evading the attack. The reason for why he was still alive at this very moment was _not_ because of his quick thinking or fast reflexes. _What…what happened just now…?_

From the way Caecus tilted Rhys’ face to the side in curiosity, eyes bright and calculating the sight of Jack’s _very-much-alive_ person, it was evident that the alien did not misstep or make a split-second decision to retract its swing. Clearly, it was just as alarmed about the current situation.

“ _Humans should not possess such capabilities…such reflexes are impossible for your genetic-ooh~”_ It immediately paused mid-sentence and stride to flicker its gaze briefly to the cybernetic arm dragging the sword behind it, the creature holding it’s stare in deep concentration. Whether conscious of how it could manipulate Rhys’ body, the youthful face softened only a fraction as it regarded the arm, lips forming a soft thin line. “ _…certainly, there are aspects to your species one cannot learn from mere visual observation alone…I underestimated the current status of your evolutionary growth…._ ”

Jack pulled himself out of his thoughts to acknowledge the alien from the moment it gazed down at the robotic prosthetic, listening to its strange comments, defining each word carefully to better understand until the answer the older man found ripped a sharp gasp from his panting lips. It was not a trick played on him by his own delusional mind desperately wanting to believe any shred of…no, it was clearly imprinted on the alien’s face, in its words, in the very reason why Jack was still breathing. If it was not for how severely dire the situation was at present, Jack would have broken out in hysterical laughter at the relief he so greatly wanted to relish in, but did allow himself a one-sided grin from behind his palm.

_I owe you big time for that one, pumpkin._

Soon after that thought did Jack feel a surge of energy from his chest that no adrenaline rush or amphetamine he’d ever taken in his life could be compared to. It spread through his arms and legs, turning the trembling of fear into a tremble of overwhelming power.

Hope.

It could have lifted him effortlessly to his feet if his screaming muscles allowed it, but knew better to waste any remaining amount of energy he had left. Of all the events him and Rhys had endured through their journeys, he wasn’t ignorant to the fact that his body had been slowly breaking down under the stress and exertion of it all. He was no spry chicken anymore, and knew full well there would be a point in time where he would essentially max out his stamina and deplete his adrenaline. He could feel it now, if he was being honest with himself, in the way it took almost twice as much force to lift himself up into a crouch, and with a slight muscle spasm and some assistance from his right hand on his knee, stood to face the tall thin frame of his possessed partner now watching him rise with growing interest.

Before he could see nothing but uncertainty when he gazed at the other man, and now all he could see was a silver lining. He just had to find a way to get to it while conserving his strength.

Maybe a nice pep-talk could give him a little extra fuel.

“Heh…y’know, I keep hearing that; a lot of aliens seem to think we’re some weak little pissants who can barely figure out how the hell _fire_ works. I mean, whatever, your opinion and all.” There might have been a bit of a tired swag in his few steps forward, and the sway in his body did not go unnoticed, neither did the attempt to sound less exhausted than he actually was, but it would take death itself to shut Jack’s mouth up.

“It’s also those same aliens that coincidentally get their asses handed to them by those _same_ weak little pissants. Idn’t that something?”

His instigating remarks seemed to have no effect on Caecus, but it wasn’t until Jack removed his hand from his face to let it drop at his side that the alien appeared to all but come alive; eyes rounding and lips stretching into a morbid grin as it saw something that took Jack a moment to assess until he felt the stinging on his cheek, bridge of his nose, corner of his eyebrow, and most notably the flapping of loose flesh against his face.

 _Fucker actually managed to get me._ Jack lifted the hand that had been clutching his face prior, but only saw a very small smudge of blood in his palm and on a few of his fingers. It wasn’t nearly enough blood to account for what he was feeling or seeing. The stinging only felt like a simple cut, but the flapping flesh….

And then it dawned on him. _He sliced my mask, but only grazed my skin._ Only a fraction of a difference in accuracy had saved him from another face mangling. The term ‘lucked out’ did not do it justice.

Caecus tilted its head once more. “ _I’m curious, Jacque…what do you conceal behind your second flesh?”_

It had been a long time since he’d heard a question like that directed at him, at his mask. It was a question he would normally consider more a dying wish, as almost immediately his insecurities would throw him into a blind rage resulting in the tedious chore of washing the poor bastards blood from his hands. Strangely, he felt no insecurity or rage in Caecus’ genuine inquiry. For the first time in a very long time, if ever, it spurred a challenge he was willing to accept.

He lifted both hands up to his face, and with a few quick flicks of his fingers, the clasps came undone. The cool dank air of the room stung flesh that had not felt such a sensation since well before he fell from the shuttle blast, and Jack was almost grateful for the refreshing cold feeling against the sensitive skin, as if he’d been splashed with water. The mask dropped crookedly in his hand, almost torn in two save for a few unscathed areas keeping it together.

Jack lifted his head up to give Caecus a full view, throwing the mask over his shoulder to skid across the floor. What Jack didn’t expect was an unknown weight on his shoulders he never knew was there prior had followed the mask into the distant forgotten space of the room. _I guess it wasn’t me who needed that damn thing all along…just one more of **his** old problems I don’t have to deal with anymore._

“If you were expecting a more handsome face behind the first one, sorry to disappoint.” Jack tried for a sarcastic tone, but when he noticed just how _engrossed_ Caecus was in its new discovery it made him flinch back with a twisted scowl. He could endure the shocked stares and horrified gasps, that was the most expected reaction. But this wasn’t an ordinary reaction he was prepared for – a wide-eyed, open-mouthed awe so exaggerated it almost looked psychotic, and coupling with the fact that it was _Rhys’_ face that reflected the alien’s odd fascination, it made Jack almost regret tossing the mask away.

“Uh, can you _not_ stare at me like that? Giving me the creeps….”

Caecus ignored him, keeping the strange look on its borrowed face. Its eyes traced the large scar that mangled his face from one point to the curve and back down before meeting Jack’s annoyed stare.

 _“…what an intriguing specimen you are, Jacque~”_ it breathed lightly, “ _and a bold one at that…to open a door not meant for you to open. I am only able to wonder of the secrets you were shown…._ ”

Jack shrugged, “some pretty mind-bending shit, I guess. I’ve died and been cloned since then, so the only thing I remember now is a pissed off ginger chick sucker punching an ancient alien relic in my face. Other than that, I got nothin.”

That most likely made no sense to the alien, but it didn’t need to, for Caecus straightened its new body and replaced the twisted expression to one calmer and collected. It regarded Jack silently for some long seconds before nodding. “ _…you are one of the most interesting beings I’ve met in some time, Jacque. You will indeed make a wonderful sacrifice._ ”

“Thanks, I guess. I don’t have anything remotely nice to say about you, _so_ …yeah.”

“ _You will fight me for your life and for Rhys’ most admirably as you already have been. That is all the equivalent exchange I need.”_

There was no understanding how this creature perceived its reality, and would probably remain a mystery to Jack for the rest of his life. If he came out of this _with_ his life, that is. But before he could ponder any longer on the subject, a loud clanging could be heard from the distant shadows of the room, turning Jack’s head to the side just in time to see a long metal cylinder rolling toward his feet from the darkness. He leaned down and snatched the long thin object just as it reached his shoe, using both hands to pick it up when the length of it was measurably half his height.

He blinked, realizing he had just randomly received a long, thin, metal pipe from seemingly nowhere. He glanced to the shadowy area in the distance where the pipe had come from just in time to see a flash of many magenta eyes disappearing at once, the edge of the light catching the tip of a grayish purple tail swing by for just a second as if it was never there to begin with. Jack glanced from the shadows to the pipe several times, his mouth opening to speak but closing it to first quirk an eyebrow in disbelief.

“ _Knowing the destruction you have brought to their world…they aid you nonetheless. Do you still consider my motives to protect them…how did you say…monstrous?”_

Fleeting as it was, Jack felt a brief emotional current flow through his chest. He took one final look into the darkness with a soft narrowed gaze before switching back to the pipe firmly grasped in both hands. He didn’t answer Caecus. He didn’t have to. He’d seen enough war and sacrifice in his life to understand that question in its entirety. Some fought for more selfish reasons, others fought for more selfless ones.

But in the end, everyone fought for both.

His ears picked up the hastily approaching footsteps from his peripheral almost a second too late, had just enough time to flinch and turn with a slight lift of the pipe in front of him, muscles instinctively tensing just in time for metal to collide with metal, the force of the sword slamming against the middle of the pipe resonated through Jack’s fingers, his arms, ripping a groan of pain from his mouth and rocketing his body back to stumble messily until he caught his footing, his breathing ragged after the pain had subsided.

_What the—!?_

“Dirty shot, you piece of shit.” Jack grunted between breaths, a snarl marring his already marred face.

Caecus was now only several feet from him, Rhys’ lithe black cloaked body poised in a manner that allowed it to recover from one strike and coast into another with ease, the sword poised just as expertly in its owner’s hand, ready. Rhys’ face was the definition of concentrated, and if Jack had the luxury of photographing that face to memory for later admiration he could say it was one of the most handsome looks he’d ever seen on that youthful face; eyebrows knitted, eyes deadly no matter their color, peeking out dangerously from underneath long lashes, lips a thin line, jaw strong and set firm, wavy brunette locks wild and unkept. Jack had always seen Rhys as _cute_ , boyishly charming, at times gorgeous, even _beautiful._ But right now, Rhys appeared more roguishly handsome than he ever had…even if it wasn’t quite _him._

_Hold on, Rhys. I’m gonna get you back, just hold on a little longer for me._

And as soon as it was there it was gone, replaced by the harsh reality that Jack was not admiring his lover, but a possessed shell of him as the older brunette watched black and red eyes widen again, lips stretching in another one of those freaky grins.

_“Hmm~ you meant to say my attempt was unfair. I must disagree with you, Jacque. I found your distracted state a poor judgement on your part.”_

_Little shit…._

“ _You have a weapon to defend yourself now, and with my body being of human descent I find this a rather fair—“_

Caecus moved just as the pipe went hurdling upward, barely missing Rhys’ chin by a hair, forcing the young man’s tall body curling backwards until hands replaced feet and long legs flew into the air, backflipping fluidly once before resuming another fighting stance, this time of one more guarded, the creature’s expression wide and rounded with surprise.

Jack retracted the pipe back to hover in front of his chest, taking his own defensive stance. He smirked at the surprised look on Rhys’ face, taking some pride in riling such a reaction from the creature.

“Doesn’t feel so great when it happens to you, does it, sport?”

It was a short-lived victory that transitioned to a surge of dread that dropped in Jack’s stomach like a heavy stone. He had meant to be a smartass, sure, and to also warn the creature he wasn’t going to be easy to take down, nor did he intend on going easy just because it was Rhys’ body he was fighting with – even if the last part was actually a half-ass truth. He still couldn’t bring himself to consider inflicting pain on Rhys in his current state – but the reaction he first thought he had gained was quickly replaced by what could easily be considered one of the most psychotic and disturbed expressions he’d yet to see from the ancient being.

If he thought his scar had fascinated the thing, it was obvious that the display of strength and participation had riled a sick joy from it. It smiled in a way that prickled the hair on the bigger man’s arms, its head tilting to the side in such an angle that made his stomach lurch, soulless eyes boring into him with an intensity Jack felt he had to physically shake off to escape it.

“The hell is that look for, you sick fuck?” He hissed, anger instantly replacing the swell of uneasiness sitting heavy in his gut.

This time, Caecus replied instantly, “ _time has long passed since I last engaged in combat. This body will not permit me to do what I was once capable of, but nevertheless I will take great joy in this._ ”

Well, shit.

“Oh yeah?” Jack growled through clenched teeth, “well, let me make one thing clear; you do _anything_ that permanently fucks up that boy’s body, and I _promise_ you I will rip you right the _fuck_ out of his head and _crush_ you.” It was a promise he would make that challenged even death to break it.

“ _As he should have done to you?_ ”

A retort Jack was _not_ expecting, and it caused a chain-link of old memories to surface. Caecus might as well have thrown sand in his eyes, because the comment had taken him off guard long enough for the creature to surge forward at a speed clearly not achievable with a human body, and before Jack could recover he found himself mere _centimeters_ from Rhys’ face, black shrouded body leaning in so close to Jack’s he would have considered the close proximity more intimate than anything, only proving that word more fitting when Rhys’s head leaned in impossibly closer until his lips ghosted against Jack’s, warm breath on his face, tickling the rough tissue of his scar.

“ _Tell me, Jacque…_ ” it whispered against his lips, eyes half-lidded as it stared directly into Jack’s surprised ones, “ _does your kind fight with your mind, body, or both?_ ”

Caecus’ words, slithering out of Rhys’ mouth with a false sultry, snapped Jack out of his trance instantly, and the older man clenched his teeth and narrowed his eyes. “Bastard….”

The last thing he saw before the blade came swinging up was Rhys’ mocking smirk. Jack managed to jump back just in time and launch his body to the side to avoid the next calculated swing, tucking and rolling across the ground to break the fall and using the momentum of his roll was able to pull himself back up to stand despite the slight stumble in his step. He only had a second to recover, however, before the black blur was rushing toward him, sword aimed right for his neck.

_How is it so freakin fast?!_

“Woah!” Jack propelled the upper half of his body back just in time to see the gleaming sliver of silver whoosh past his throat just inches from his Adam’s apple. He looked ahead, watching the manic toothy smile and feral eyes of his Rhys, but also saw the arm holding the sword still outstretching having yet to adjust for the next swing. An opportunity. Quickly he shot a hand out to grab that same arm, fingers wrapping around the thin forearm in his massive fist and clenching hard, knowing well from the many times Rhys had bitched and moaned about the man having an _iron grip_ Jack knew it was going to come in handy at this moment.

 _Sorry about this, Rhysie._ In one fluid motion, Jack pulled his head back and with every muscle in his neck and shoulders forced himself forward until his forehead met Rhys’ between his eyebrows just above the bridge of his nose, earning Jack a painful shout from the younger man’s mouth, and he honestly wasn’t sure if Caecus felt more pain from the force of the headbutt, or Jack from the sound of Rhys’ cry.

With a jerk he shoved Rhys’ body away from him, stepping back to allow more distance between them. To his surprise Caecus did not stumble back like he first expected. Instead, the creature recovered quickly; standing tall, arm wielding the sword lowered for a moment, the real hand reaching up to touch the growing swell of red skin between its eyebrows curiously, eyes looking straight ahead but not focused. Finally, with eyes now focusing on Jack, Caecus tiled its head slightly in question.

“ _Would not the most effective way for such an attack is to aim for the cartilage protecting the nasal passages? Force the cartilage into the brittle bone to pierce into the brain?”_

 _Yeah…if I wanted to kill him…kill Rhys._ Jack said nothing in reply, just stared at the alien staring back at his silence quizzically, and suddenly the curious expression morphed into one that led Jack to begrudgingly realize it had found the answer it sought.

“ _…you are incapable of severely injuring your Rhys’ body.”_ Shit. Jack visibly flinched at the truth behind those words, jaw clenching when he couldn’t think of a good rebuttal. Instead, he gripped the pipe with both hands at the edge of one side and held it up in warning, reminding himself of a time in his adolescence when carrying a bat everywhere he went served more to protect himself than to cause trouble.

The creature continued watching him for such a long time, unblinking and eerily silent it made the older man twitch with agitation. After what seemed like hours, Caecus opened its mouth and the next question completely threw Jack off guard. “ _…tell me, what interest do you have in Rhys?”_

A pause. Jack blinked, and blinked again. He quirked his brow and gave the alien his best incredulous face.

“What kind of question is that?”

Now it was Caecus’ turn to blink.

Jack fidgeted. “You _know_ …at least I _thought_ you did…we were pretty loud.”

“ _Pardon?”_

“Nothing, nothing. You don’t remember that whole _Breads and Butters_ talk we had? Pretty sure you understood that.”

If the alien was capable of understanding the meaning behind a flat-lined expression, it couldn’t have chosen a more perfect face to convey it than Rhys’. “ _Jacque…do you consider me an incompetent being? That I would not understand your metaphors consisting of edible substances taken from your human delicacies?_ ”

Damn. Now that joke didn’t seem as funny anymore. Jack scrunched his brows. “You knew I was messing with you?”

Caecus nodded simply. _“Yes. The memories stored within the hard drive are ones I have observed numerous times. There are few in which you physically reprimand him using violence…there are others that show you court him as one would a mate. You inflict violence upon him… yet you show him adoration and affection. I do not understand your relationship with Rhys. Even now, your actions puzzle me.”_

Getting your love life critiqued by an alien in the throes of battle was _not_ something Jack expected, and to bring up something so intimate, not to mention the alien rummaging through Rhys’ private collection of cherished memories practically invading the young man’s privacy, it only served to ignite a red-hot fury in Jack, unable to stop his temper from boiling over.

“That’s none of your business. Nosy _prick_.”

Caecus pulled its stolen lips into a smile Jack knew very well as a mocking smirk, and its next words pushed the older brunette from furious to all out enraged.

“ _I disagree. As the circumstances show, Rhys belongs to me now, and as such his memories are mine to study and dissect...”_

“You got three seconds to shut that _dumbass_ mouth of yours up before I—”

“ _…before you will perform which method of violence, Jacque? Will you strewn me up by this throat, like you have done in past?”_ Beyond the building rage in Jack’s head, the all-too familiar haze in his eyes of said anger threatening to consume his vision and bring him into a dangerous state of temptation to thoughtlessly launch himself at the alien before him, to tear him apart. Somewhere beyond _that_ was a small muffled voice in the far regions of his mind begging him to stay calm, pleading sense and reason; that he could lose himself to his temper and end up hurting Rhys in the process, or worse… he couldn’t allow himself to lose sight of himself or his actions, he couldn’t….

_“Or will you use this tool to bludgeon me?”_

That voice was _alarmingly_ close, as in _directly in his right ear_ close, and suddenly he wasn’t the only one gripping the pipe. His eyes strained to comprehend what was happening at such a speed he could swear it caused a kind of shutter effect to his sight for a brief lapse in time before the world seemed right, but even then, it was too late. Caecus was standing directly next to him, Rhys’ organic hand clutching the other end of the pipe and bending it back with such dominating force Jack did not think the boy’s body capable, having to sink teeth into his bottom lip when the angle did not agree with Jacks arm. His shoulder screamed and his elbow strained to the point it could snap as easily as a bird’s fragile wing against the strength Caecus produced from Rhys’ body.

 _“Errghn…_ d-don’t tempt me, _motherfucker.”_ Jack hissed through his teeth, which tore through his bottom lip with ferocity to keep from screaming. As he was about to let go of the pipe with his other hand to use to shove the being away from him, his eyes caught the silver gleam from the corner of his vision. _Shit._

The blade was not aimed to slice this time, but to impale; aimed back with tip, body, and all a straight line directed between Jack’s eyes, straight to the brain for immediate death. Beside the blade, Rhys’ words seemed as sharp as the blade it was holding.

“ _Am I to be frightened by your threats, or the lies you weave with them?”_

The sword surged forward only to abruptly careen left with a sporadic jolt, taking with it a small lock of Jack’s hair just before the very edge of the blade sliced through the layers of Jack’s clothes above his shoulder, slicing through the skin just enough for him to feel the stinging burn and bubbling liquid warmth of blood.

When Jack shouted in pain, Caecus hissed in aggravation, and both backed away from each other like repelling magnets, stumbling back to assess their own problems. Jack doubled in on himself, dropping the pipe to let both his arms droop limply while trying to overcome the different painful sensations afflicting each shoulder. His chest heaved in an attempt to gather himself, eyes focusing forward to ignore the pain until it subsided.

While Caecus did not sustain any injury, it was as though the alien was in a similar situation to Jacks.

Rhys’ organic hand clutched the cybernetic one at the wrist, the prosthetic trembling violently and causing the sword to swing around uselessly in the air. While it’s face was an impassive mask, the dilated eye and glowing red pupil bore daggers at the arm.

“ _Cease this.”_

Jack’s eyes narrowed in brief confusion, wondering only for a passing moment who the creature was speaking to…

_“…please…do not interfere….”_

“Rhys!” Jack shouted, not realizing it was him who had shouted until Caecus whipped its head up to lock eyes in a silent challenge, an unspoken _you will not dare_ coming from the alien’s intense stare. Jack ignored it however, pressing on desperately with the small window of opportunity he had. “ _Rhys_! Can you hear me?!”

_“Be silent.”_

“Come on, babe, I know you’re in there!” Jack shouted louder, almost roaring. He didn’t care how hysteric he sounded, if it helped then fuck it he would scream and bellow until his throat bled. “Fight it, Rhys! Get that thing out of you! I know you can do it!”

The cybernetic arm convulsed, and Jack watched Rhys’ face contort into a hideous snarl as it attempted to suppress the arm, clutching it tightly to its chest for more control, robotic fingers spreading wide until the sword dropped to clang now forgotten on the floor at Rhys’ feet.

_“…cccccease this…!”_

“Rhys…” Jack pushed on, “you were able to eject me from your cybernetics. You’ve done it before, you can do it again. Come on, kiddo, get that thing the _fuck_ out of your head!”

Rhys’ eyes began to flicker, the glowing red cybernetic eye flashing rapidly through an assortment of colors; red to blue, to yellow and back to red before both eyes rolled up and underneath twitching eyelids, head tilting back to follow as jaw dropped in a silent scream. His long thin body convulsed, and Jack watched what anyone else would have considered to be a full-on _exorcist_ from the way the body jerked and bucked with an internal battle unseen to the outside world. Long legs gave way, sending Caecus to its knees.

A choked cry left Rhys’ open mouth that made Jack almost surge forward, but he remained planted where he stood at the safe distance he was from the thrashing body and chose to throw his words instead of himself. “That’s it, Rhys! C’mon, baby, you got this! FIGHT IT!”

Thin shoulders jolted back and its head dropped forward until chin touched sternum, tousled brown locks shielding Rhys’ face from Jack’s intense stare. Despite the violent trembling, Rhys’ body had stopped convulsing. Slowly, the cybernetic arm lifted with shaky restraint, every movement appeared forced against an unforeseen power holding it back. Fingers curled accept for the index finger that pointed to the port of Rhys’ temple, holding the position unsteadily with enough time to convey to Jack the purpose of its actions.

“…h-hit _me_ …”

The command was barely a whisper; feeble and strained, but it was not the voice from before. It was not Caecus. No, this voice belonged to….

“Rhys!?” Jack shouted, his tone seeping desperation he’d never thought capable from someone like him, “…sweetheart, c’mon, keep pushing—!”

Rhys’ head shook from side to side; an otherwise easy action seemed barely achievable as his body fought off the alien’s control. “… _hit me…please…_.”

“Shut up, kid. _Shut up_ , and keep fighting!

“J..Jack….” he called out in the same whispered choke, “…destroy it…y-y-you’ave to…crush it…m-my skull…”

Jack growled viciously, frustration and disbelief seeping into every word as he snarled, “shut the _fuck_ up, Rhys, you know how idiotic you fucking sound?! I’m not killing you, you moron! Find a way to hold it back, I-I’ll think of something to—”

“ _No…_!” Rhys hissed back, “…can’t…it’s…imbedded...in my….”

 _Imbedded._ Jack didn’t need to hear the last of the broken whispers for the chill to spread through his veins in grim understanding. Now it was his turn to struggle to move, struggle to shake his head slowly as he refused to accept those words. He was so close, _so close,_ to getting his…Rhys was…his best friend, his confidant, his partner, his _lover_ , and knowing the last words he would ever hear from _his_ Rhys would be a broken plea for death by his own hands.

Jack closed his slackened mouth until his lips formed a thin line, inhaling and exhaling through blown nostrils, and kept his expression firm. “No. Rhys, you listen to me…. _goddammit,_ you better listen to me _RIGHT FUCKING NOW_!” He straightened himself, and took slow steps toward the crumpled frame in front of him, narrowed eyes set on the mess of brown hair with all the temptation of taking that head into his large hands and shoving their foreheads together, like they’ve done so many times before, and _make_ the kid understand why Jack _needed_ him to fight off the alien’s possession, why he couldn’t accept such a ludicrous ultimatum.

“You and I…babe, we’re going to turn this world around, isn’t that what we agreed on? No…no, I’m not doing this without you, kiddo. You remember that promise we made? To not lose each other? Don’t you _dare_ fucking go back on your word…don’t you _dare_ fucking lie to me, Rhys.”

“It’ll kill you!”

Jack stopped in mid step, frozen by the piercing brown and blue eyes that sent his heart sailing into his throat. It felt like eternity since he’d seen those eyes, swirling with so much _human_ emotion, streams of tears trailing down his bruised and sunbeaten face, lips pulled back and teeth gnashed together, expression twisted in anguish and fear.

Through the tears and the trembling, Rhys wheezed in a panicked breath between his clenched teeth, “…it’s not…n-not you’re A…I…it’s…I-I don’t un-understand…I can’t…it’ll _kill_ you, Jack….”

“You won’t let that happen.”

Rhys’ eyes, shimmering with pain and tears, widened slightly at the statement. Jack continued, “Rhys, if you let that _thing_ win, we’ll _both_ be dead, you understand _that_!?” The room went silent as the world faded away around them, leaving only the two men to stare at each other with an unspoken _I can’t lose you_ to drift in the silence between them.

A hiccupped sob brought the world spinning back into place. “I…don’t want you to die….”

“I won’t,” Jack dropped his own voice to a deep hum of reassurance, “because you won’t let that happen. Give yourself a little more credit, kiddo, _shit_.” An exasperated huff of hollow laughter followed, “we came down here together, we’ll _leave_ this hell hole together. You and me. So wipe that mess of your face and _get up_. I’ve had enough of this sappy bullshit,” he started forward again, his stride and tone taking on the more familiar gruffness and ferocity he was accustomed to.

When Rhys noticed Jack advancing on him his expression suddenly changed. His eyes rounded and he shook his head wildly, body leaning back as if trying to keep the distance between them. His arm shakily shot out in front of him to flatten a palm to Jack.

His voice was frantic. “N-No! Jack, st-stop! _Please_ …C-Caecus _is_ —!”

With one severe convulsion, Rhys whipped his head back and screamed, eyes rolling back in his head under rapidly flickering eyelids. The hand extended out to stop Jack curled its fingers into a fist and slammed against his temple; the last futile attempt to fight before it was too late.

Rhys’ body slumped, head lolling forward to address Jack’s halting advances with one blown pupil and a red glowing eye, the grin that always accompanied replaced with a hideous grimace.

_“…do you think of yourself clever, human?”_

Jack remained silent, body tense and ready for what the obviously enraged alien had in store for him.

The alien’s grimace curled into an animalistic snarl, eyebrows arched and eyes wide with a malicious stare, so foreign compared to the its usual composed and emotionless persona. Somewhere in the distant recesses of Jack’s mind, a fleeting thought considered the chance that Caecus was reacting to the memories it had seen, to the emotions that Rhys was able to replicate artificially and store along with the memories of his choosing; aliens often did have a bad habit of underestimating humans and how far they had advanced in technology.

After a moment, Jack decided he just couldn’t help himself. At this point, fuck it. If he was going to gamble everything on this moment, he’d at least let himself have one last crack at the alien.

“Nah, I like to think of myself as a fuckin _genius_.”

“ _Presumptuous filth! You will not triumph!”_ Caecus hissed, dripping malice from every word. In a flurry of hysteric movement, it’s arm shot out to grab the sword once forgotten on the ground next to it, legs scrambling up to stand, its other hand planted flat on the floor to launch itself forward like a hunger-driven animal, propelling Rhys’ body forward in a sloppy sprint.

“ _We will know a better future! WE WILL KNOW A BETTER WORLD!_ ” Caecus was all out shrieking, eyes impossibly round and feral, organic arm flailing out to the side with sword raised in clenched-white knuckles, seeming to care little-to-none about poise and grace and instead ready to swing with abandon.

Jack stood his ground, the last thing his mind etched into memory before closing was those black and red eyes overflowing with fresh tears. His deep breathing soothed the pounding of his heart against his chest, and he outstretched his arms in invitation to what would quite possibly be his death.

_Rhysie…it’s all up to you now, cupcake. If you don’t take control…well, hopefully there’s some huge ass corporate-owned space ship beyond this we’ll get to run together…._

This feeling, of time stretching out every single second before death, brought back the familiar feeling of his first death- _his_ death, rather; at that time, he thought it was karma wanting him to stay on his hands and knees to feel every drop of blood ooze from his wounds, one for every life he’d taken with no regard or second thought, to feel the overwhelming burn, the _intensity_ , of his chest cavity being blown open at close range by the very gun he ironically designed. But now, he pondered briefly, was this just a normal occurrence before death’s fell swoop?

 _Typical,_ he inwardly scoffed, _even death is a huge pain in my ass…._

**_“Looks like I came in at the best part!”_ **

First; if by some strange twist of fate _something_ heard his inner comment and decided at that moment to be a real asshole and _stop_ time, then yeah, kudos to that _something_ for being the biggest troll in the universe. But that was impossible, and Jack quickly dismissed it to wrap his brain around the _second_ conundrum that so precipitously presented itself.

_Have I finally lost it, or did I just say something out loud?_

The ground beneath his feet began to _thrum_ ; a deep vibration against the soles of his shoes that reverberated into his ears from the echoes of the massive room. He could hear the moans of the building around him just as clearly as the intensifying vibrations beneath him. The third conundrum, and it was enough for Jack to finally open his eyes.

Caecus seemed frozen in mid-animation, but it’s attention was no longer set on ensuring a haste death toward the man in front of it. In fact, the sudden extreme transition from mindless anger to absolute shock as it stared blankly at the cybernetic hand to its side had Jack follow its eyes, his own mimicking the same expression as soon as he realized what he was seeing.

Himself. A tiny, blue, holographic version of himself hovering above the palm of Rhys’ robotic hand, standing tall with hands on hips, shoulders as wide as the amused grin on the little hologram’s face.

Once the little Jack’s head turned toward the real Jack, it huffed a laugh hard enough to shake its shoulders. ** _“You look wrecked, bro. The whole mask-gone thing is kinda ballsy for you though, not gonna lie I wouldn’t do it…er, well I can’t, but if I had the option I’d totally prefer to stay handsome_**.”

Before Jack could so much as blink out of his stupor the hologram turned its head up to fully take in the sight of the _Caecus-Rhys_ thing, and let out a low whistle once his eyes were finished with their inspection. “ ** _How’s the new body working out for ya, buddy? Doing good? Any complaints?”_**

“ _…._ ”

 ** _“Great!”_** A.I Jack clapped its hands, although they made no noise, and rubbed its palms together with a proud chuckle. **_“Always good to hear from a satisfied client!”_**

Jack was the first to find his voice, and let it rip through the air with a growl, “you conniving little _shit_ , showing your face—!”

 _“—Client?_ ”

Jack glanced at the alien staring at the A.I with the most genuinely confused expression he’d seen yet, watching as Caecus regarded the comment silently in waiting for confirmation, which A.I Jack was quick to retort with a quirk of its blue brow.

“ ** _Did I stutter? And get that stupid look off your face…Rhys’ face? Whatever. It doesn’t suit you. You heard me the first time.”_**

Jack tried to warn him, Rhys probably did too. But sometimes, one must experience their mistake firsthand in order to understand the lesson learned.

_“…you…are the giver from the heavens? The one who….”_

**_“Yup, in the fle- dammit- the one and only, baby!”_** A.I Jack chuckled, most likely at its own phrasing.

Jack interrupted quickly, “knowing how much you’ve fucked us all over just wasn’t enough, huh? You had to come _watch_?” His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, wishing there was some sort of physical form to this asshole he could crush beneath his fingers.

His question was answered with a sickeningly smug laugh as the hologram crossed its arms over its chest and nodded. **_“You know me too well, Jackie boy. But seriously, I just wanted to drop in and check on my creepy ancient friend here to make sure our deal went through—psych! I’m totally just messing with you!”_** The A.I broke out into a fit of laughter, as if it was the funniest guy it’d ever known, and finally calmed itself down enough to wipe a fake tear from its eye.

Jack scowled. _No wonder so many people hate me. God, I’m such an ass._

**_“But for realzies, I gotta be places soon so I’ll make this quick. I’m just here to knock out some birds with a stone. And by birds I mean you poor suckers, and by stone I mean my ridiculously kickass new laser mod I got for the ship as a gift to myself for all the hard work I’ve done reforming Hyperion. Sometimes you gotta spoil yourself after a job well done.”_ **

Caecus raised the cybernetic arm up until the A.I was at eye level with Rhys’, brows knitted and eyes pinched in growing consternation. It opened its mouth for a few silent seconds before quietly saying, _“…I…do not understand. You wish to destroy us…”_ its head tilted to the side slightly, _“…have I done something to displease you? If you should allow me more time, I will ensure you the sacrifice you wished for—”_

**_“Y’know something? For a thousand-and-something-year-old being, who managed to cheat death by switching from a meatbag to a sentient A.I, believing that ‘voices from the heavens’ told you to kill someone for a new body seems…well…surprisingly stupid of you. You must have been reeeally desperate, huh?”_ **

If the situation had called for it, Jack would have flinched away at the giant burn Caecus received, and almost felt a little sorry for the alien. But once again, he _did_ warn it.

And then, Caecus whispered something to the A.I, and Jack could almost feel the emotions tied to it; anguish, rage, fear, and for a split second he wondered if Rhys was somewhere inside his own head watching, and saying the same thing at the exact same time, because there was no way a sentient being could be capable of being that genuine.

_“…and to what fate will befall the Eridians?”_

_Poor bastard,_ Jack thought with a slight softened expression, already knowing the answer to such a grim question.

A.I Jack was just toying with Caecus now, that much was apparent. It shifted his projected body to lean on one side, elbow in one hand, the other hand coming up to stroke its chin as its eyes took to the corner of its lids in contemplation.

 ** _“Mm…oooh yeah, I forgot about them. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all about saving endangered species and whatnot, but…I mean, c’mon,”_** it flattened both its open palms and weighed them against each other, one dropped as the other rising as if weighing a bowling ball against a feather. **_“it’s a freakin LASER MOD on a space ship! Can’t pass that up! Back me up on this won’t you, Jackie?”_**

“Fuck off, asshole.”

 ** _“Right, well on that note I will take my leave. See you douchebags never.”_** Just as he was about to fade out, Jack new better than to trust the A.I to actually leave without another last-second shitty remark.

And, as expected…

 ** _“Oh! One last thing…”_** just when Jack thought the snarky grin couldn’t piss him off any more than currently possible, the A.I’s next words threw him into a seething rage.

**_“…Angel says hi. Ciao!”_ **

“FUCK YOU, you sonofab—!”

Just as the hologram disappeared the entire room, the entire _building_ , began to quake with such force it shook the dust and dirt loose to piddle to the floor and dance in the air. Creaks and moans of the building shifting under the force sounded loud and horrifying in Jack’s ears, pulling him harshly from his indignation and rage to scan the room frantically, having to shift his feet to stay balanced.

One large thrumming wave of what could only be considered a surge of _power_ coursed through the building. Jack could feel the immense flow of energy underneath his feet, and before he could piece together the quakes and vibrations, artificial light exploded into the room, tearing a hissed grunt of pain from Jack as his eyes stung, having spent countless hours in the dim light of the Atlas base.

Once the stinging subsided he was able to blink through the haze, peering around the trembling room and feeling as though he had just been transported into an entirely new scenery. Long rectangular fluorescent lights shown bright, built into the walls high above where the torches could never get to, coated with age old dust and humming with energy after potentially many years.

“Holy _shit_!” Jack breathed, taking in just how spacious the room was now that the majority wasn’t shrouded in endless darkness. Warning signs and codes painted the walls in large black uppercase letters, confirming Jack’s earlier realization that they were in a large loading bay where once fleets of shuttle crafts could launch, or one much larger space craft.

 _Wait a minute…._ “How did that bastard get the generators working?” Jack hissed to himself. Just how many modifications did the A.I make to Helios? Because right now it appeared as though Helios was able to wirelessly jumpstart the military base, like one car battery to another but with no jumper cables. If that was even possible….

Just as he was about to ask himself why, he immediately knew the answer; knowing himself, if he was to bring about mass devastation and murder, he’d do it in the flashiest way possible with a full audience—

A toe curling groan of shifting gears and twisting metal sounded from above them, struggling past the years of age and rust could be heard in its roar back to life. Both Jack and Caecus looked up at such an agonizing noise, to watch with silent horror as the ceiling of the room began to divide into two parts, splitting apart and opening up to what Jack at first expected to welcome the blinding rays of the sun he could honestly say he didn’t miss very much.

But there was no sun, no daylight that welcomed the audience from below. For the first time in his life Jack knew how it felt to be as small as a rodent; watching as a monster endlessly times bigger than himself forced its way into his hiding spot, allowing its giant eye to peer through the opening and stare down at him with no other intention but to decimate and destroy.

The eye of _his_ own giant metal monster, the one he fought and killed to covet so many years ago.

The eye of Helios.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“… _Eeehyachooah_! Ugh…” a few sniffles later, “…you know, I’m all for staying out of sight through secret passageways, but did we _have_ to use the ventilation system? It’s so dusty in here, my sinuses hate me right now.”

Another voice addressed the other with a tinge of irritation. “Do you have to whine about _everything_? You haven’t stopped since we _left_.”

Another sniffle. “…I don’t whine _that_ much….” The _whiner_ turned back to see the third walking little ways behind them.

“Do you think I whine a lot?”

The third had no problem replying;

_“As the journey takes us here_

_hiding away from the danger_

_your whining is consistent throughout._ ”

“Ouch. Well, thanks for being honest.” The whiner turned around with a pout and a defeated hunch of their shoulders.

“Cut me some slack, guys. I’m like the only one here that was pulled from _years_ of retirement for this. You try fitting into clothes you haven’t worn in _years_! See how you feel. These jeans are cutting off the circulation to my thighs….”

The first of the group walking in front turned around to give the second a vicious glare from over the shoulder, effectively stopping the whiner.

“ _Oh_ …okay, I see your point. Sorry. I’ll shut up now, sir-ma’am! I’ll shut up now, ma’am….” The words dwindled into submissive mumbles until the trio was thrown into another bout of silence.

An opening in the ventilation system caused the three to have to cross quickly, quietly, save for any surveilling eyes to catch movement in the ventilation systems of the space station, triggering a search. Catching a glimpse of something beyond the opening had the first stopping in mid stride, backtracking somewhat to peak out through one side of the opening.

The east side of the Hub came into view, but what caught their attention was the holographic advertisement of the nights events, as if showing a trailer for a new movie.

_HYPERION’S TRAITORS. WATCH THE MAIN EVENT IN THE GRAND HALL. SEE PAMPHLET FOR MORE DETAILS._

Above the bolded letter were three mugshots; two women and one man. The first picture was of a woman; tan, short brunette hair, and a scar across one eyebrow. The second picture was of a short man, tousled brown hair, goatee, and one impressive five o’clock shadow. The last picture was of the second woman; much younger looking than the others, darker-complected skin tone, but her green eyes held more fury and obstinance than the others, looking directly at the camera as if to say _fuck off_ , _Hyperion scum._

Before the first of the trio could snap out of their daze, they could feel the other two presences peaking over their shoulder, looking at the same ad.

The second whispered, “you know them?”

Silence followed the question, before the first turned around and walked past the other two, who followed shortly after down the massive vent.

“…doesn’t matter. Moxxie gave us specific instructions, so let’s not waste any more time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It killed me to write Angel in that way -_- hurry, Jack! Come save your baby girl! And poor Rhysie, you can do it! I wonder what Caecus is going to do now that A.I Jack completely fucked it over... :/
> 
> Can you guess who the Vault Hunters are that are traveling through the ventilation system? ;}
> 
> Stay tuned for more! I should have the next chapter out way sooner than it took me to get this one out! All comments are welcome, let me know what you thought and if you have any questions! Thanks again for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> I actually really enjoyed writing this. :D I hope you all enjoyed reading it!


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